


Saving A Winchester's Life.

by WaywardDemons



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Drunk Dean, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hospitals, Impala, Oral Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Sick Dean Winchester, Supernatural imagine, Unresolved Sexual Tension, could get crazy, fluff for now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-06-06 16:50:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6762196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaywardDemons/pseuds/WaywardDemons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine finding Dean Winchester sleeping in the Impala in the middle of the day with the engine running.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You approached the dark vehicle with cation. Each step you took became slower and slower with gravel crunching under your feet. The engine rumbled and threatened to lurch in any direction at any moment, of only you could see that someone was even inside. You cleared your throat, hoping the small action would be loud enough to be heard from this distance.

You had sat in your own car for a long while, convincing yourself that you needed to check this strange occurrence out. It wasn’t likely that a car would be here during this time, even the little restaurant in which you worked wasn’t open, and wouldn’t be for a few good hours. And the city you lived in was so small that you knew everyone around, this car was new, strange, and held so many questions.

“Come on Y/N, just go and see if someone is in the car. It’s not a big deal. It’s probably empty anyway.” You rocked back and forth on the heels of your feet trying to convince yourself. The car seemed ominous and scary. And with the soft hum of the classic rock inside you weren’t sure what to think.

You let out a rather large sigh before taking two very large steps and finding yourself next to the driver door. You stood on your toes and found a body inside. He lay with his face against the cool leather of the front seat, his boot covered feet near the pedals. One hand remained snaked in the steering wheel, the other on the floor of the car. As you traced his body and lingered on the drooping hand on the floor you spotted it, the pile of vomit.

You didn’t hesitate to pry open the creaking door and throw yourself on top of him. You turned him, allowing only a moment to marvel in the beauty that was the man now under you before you shoved two of your dainty fingers into his mouth. Vomit caked on to the side of his face and forced your own gag reflux to kick in.

You shoved it down, focusing on saving the life of the man under you. He coughed a few times, his eyes still shut and his body still limp. You turned your head so you couldn’t watch and shoved them in a little more, hoping that his would work. He coughed again, this time his arms came to life as he tried to turn to his side. 

You climbed off of him, standing a few feet away from the car as he continued to unload his stomach onto the floor of his car. He gripped the steering wheel as he lifted himself up and into a sitting position. You watched him drag the back of his hand across his lips, how he looked at the remains before wiping them on his jacket. It took him a few moments to look around, to assess his surroundings.

“Are you okay?” You asked, approaching him once again. Slowly, as if he couldn’t move any faster, his eyes found you. He combed over your nicely dressed body before he closed his eyes and rested his head against the steering wheel. “I found you passed out, it seems you overdosed? I don’t mean to pry but you should probably go get looked at. I have my car over there if you want a ride. I don’t think you should be driving in your condition anyway.”

Dean grumbled and shook his head. “You saved me?” He asked, but his face still remained buried against the hard steering wheel. “You don’t even know me.” You watched his hands tighten around the wheel, his knuckles growing white.

You stepped forward, bending down and digging your knee into the gravel below. “That doesn’t matter. You could have died choking on your own vomit. No one deserves to go out like that.” You rubbed your hand on his knee gently. Even you were shocked by your sudden confidence with this stranger.

Dean chuckled at your response and slowly turned his head towards you. His eyes lingered on your hand before he found your face. “Thank you for your act of kindness. It’s good to know there are still some good people in the world.”

“What is your name?” You asked getting lost in his green eyes.

Dean flustered, every part of him was ready to lie to the woman before him, but he didn’t feel the need to. “Dean. Dean Winchester.” He made for you to shake his hand, but when he saw it covered in vomit he instead let it grip the steering wheel.

“Y/F/N. Y/L/N.” You stood now, brushing the dirt from your knee and hugging your arms to your chest. “Look please let me take you to the hospital. And while we’re there I’ll have your car cleaned? Is there anyone I should call?”

“No hospitals. I’ll be fine. I just need a moment to…” Dean leaned over and popped open the glove compartment. He shoved his hand in the space and dug around the various papers before a “Gotcha” left his lips and he returned his hand to his side. In his grasp sat a small pint of dark liquid.

You leaned down, ripping the bottle from his hand before it met his lips. “Hey!” He yelled trying to swat at your hands and take it back from you.

“I am pretty sure that this isn’t going to help your situation.” You swung the bottle in front of him before duping the liquid at your feet.

“Look,” Dean pinched at the brow of his nose and tried to remain calm. “I am glad that you saved my life. But you don’t need to stick around. So thank you.” He ripped the empty bottle from your hand and tried to suckle out any remaining drop he could. He was just short of dropping to his knees and licking the dirt for the liquid.

“Obviously you need my help. Something is wrong with you if you have to drive yourself to drink to the point you choke on your own vomit. And I’m willing to bet that you have someone close to you that would care deeply if something happened to you. So get your ass out of the car, I’m taking you to the hospital.”

Dean sat confused by the sudden control you commanded, and it didn’t help that you yourself were shocked at your sudden outburst either. None of this was you. “Come on.” You barked, stepping out of Dean’s way so that he could join you with his feet on the ground.

Dean groaned as he stood, his bones creaking under him, aching at the sudden stress he was putting on his body. He slammed the door of his car, welcoming the familiar creaking sound. He motioned for you to lead the way and you did.

His feet moved heavily behind yours, you waited for him to get in the car first, waited to see his large shoulders in the passenger seat. You took in a deep breath before you joined him in the small confines of your car. The smell of his vomit covered clothes filled in the air and forced you to question your own up-chuck refluxes as you tried to drive as safely as you could to the local hospital.

Dean seemed reluctant to get out of the car after you parked. You stuck around with him, watching him wring his hands in his lap before throwing his head back behind him, leaning against the seat. “I’d say you don’t have to go in there if you don’t want, but you have to. I saw you limping earlier, and I’m not too sure where all the cuts on your hands came from but I’m guessing its nothing good.”

“Oh, you don’t want to know where I got these.” Dean flashed you a smile, one that had he not been covered in his own vomit probably would have made you swoon for the man next to you. “Here, call the guy saved as Moose.” Dean tossed a phone into your lap and exited the car before you could say anything.

Dean sauntered his way into the hospital, passing nurses and other guests until he came to a crashing halt at the nurse’s station. “I need help.” And his eyes closed.

You caught up to see a group of curses attempting to pick up the man and place him on a bed. “Hey, be careful with him!” You yelled watching them drop him rather violently onto the bed. You ran to his side, a few nurses left, leaving you with just two as they tried to wheel him down the hall.

They stopped the bed from moving, forcing you to almost trip over your own feet. “Excuse me do you know this man?” The male nurse next to Dean’s feet asked. You could hear the annoyance on his voice but you paid no mind to it.

“Yeah. Well kinda. I found him.” You said not taking your eyes off the once again passed out Dean Winchester. He seemed to peaceful, even with the apparent cuts and bruises that were now more apparent with the florescent lights above.

“Do you know what happened?” The nurse asked as he waved his hand in front of your face trying to get your attention.

“Uh,” You started, turning to the nurse for a moment. “When I found him he was in a pool of his own vomit. I forced him to throw up and he gained consciousness.” You ran a hand through your hair, replaying what had only happened a few moments before.

“Okay. Thank you.” They both started pushing him again. They reached a double door, clearly marked that you couldn’t enter with them.

“Wait what are you going to do to him?” You grabbed at the nurse’s scrubs forcing her to stop moving forward. She gave you a menacing look before proceeding forward. You stood there, watching through the small glass window until they turned down another hall and disappeared from view.

You shoved your hands into your pockets and found a seat in the waiting area. Others around you coughed, and looked sickly, all eyeing you. You gripped Dean’s phone tightly in your hand for a long while before you realized that it was his phone.

You sighed, searching through someone’s personal belongings wasn’t something you tried to do, but something overcame you. You cleared the lock screen, looking around and making sure that no one was watching as you violated the privacy of a stranger. The first thing that you noticed was the lack of personality on the phone, nothing to scream out to you what kind of person he was.

His contacts were slim. Most were coded, it was apparent, but you were unaware of what any of it meant. You stopped at the name Moose, your thumb hovering over the name. Dean had told you to call them.

You rose to your feet, going back into the fresh air of the night. “Dean where are you? I have been trying to call all night! This isn’t cool man!” A male voice practically screamed on the other line. You held the phone away from your ear as he continued.

“Uh, hello?” You asked after he had concluded his fit of anger.

The phone was quiet for a moment, the man on the other line was obviously making sure who had called him was his brother. “Who’s this?” He asked, the anger still in his voice, but somehow softer.

“My name is Y/N. I uh,” You rubbed at the back of your neck. “I found your brother in a parking lot. I took him to the hospital and he told me to call you.”

“What hospital?” The man on the other line quickly asked. You could hear the shuffling of papers on the other side as he frantically tried to search for a place to jot down your answer.

“Uh, Green Tree? In Nebraska.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” And the phone line went dead. You sighed, not knowing if you had made the situation worse or better. You shoved the phone into your pocket and went back into the waiting room. The harsh smell of the hospital overtaking you the farther you went in.

“You’re the one that brought in the drunk guy right?” A woman with a clipboard asked hovering over you.

You practically jumped up, “Yeah. Is everything okay?” You asked.

“Follow me.”

You were led into a room, Dean lay on the bed various tubes and other things protruding from his body. He gave you a faint smile as he saw you walk into the room. “So we pumped his stomach and are keeping here overnight to monitor him. But we are worried about his mental stability, we found his body covered in various gashes in bruises that suggest self-harm.”

Dean laughed forcing the doctor to pry her eyes off the clipboard she was reading from. “Did you contact his family? We need to discuss this with someone in relation to him.”

Suddenly Dean perked up, looking quickly back from you to the doctor. “No, I uh, I don’t have any of his contacts.” You lied. Dean gave you a small nod of approval. You felt a lump in your throat forming, lying wasn’t your specialty, and you didn’t like the way it made you feel, but judging by the look of relief of Dean’s face you had chosen right.

The doctor sighed, tapping the end of his pen on the clipboard in his hand. “Well, do you have anyone we can call Mr. Page?” You ears perked at the name choice, making you question you had heard earlier.

“Nope. It’s just me.” Dean sat up, pulling the blankets over his chest. “Sorry doc, I guess we’ll have to discuss my well-being with me. And I think I’m awesome. So let’s get this show on the road.”

“Mr. Page, I suggest you stay here for the night. Pumping your stomach has left you dehydrated. I’ll send the psychiatrist in the morning.” The doctor jotted something down in a quick scribble before turning tail and leaving the room.

You sighed, watching Dean shuffle back into a comfortable place on the bed. “Mr. Page?” You asked, making sure that no one was near the door to over hear your conversation.  

Dean laughed a little before clinging to his hurting stomach. “Can’t go wrong with a little Zepplin.” He smiled, and now without the vomit you could really appreciate it for all that it was worth. “Uh, what you said earlier. About not calling my family?” You could see the question in his eyes as well as the way his voice changed to something softer.

You shifted, once more looking around to make sure it was all clear. “Yeah. Uh,” You searched your pockets for his phone, tossing it to him so it landed gently on his lap. “Moose didn’t sound too thrilled with you.” He unlocked the screen in a few clicks, before looking back up at you.

“Yeah.” Dean scratched at the top of his head. “Well, thanks for the help. Though this seems a little too much.” He motioned to the bed he lay in, the gown choking him, and the tubes coming from his arm.

“Pumping your stomach is too much?” You crossed your arms over your chest raising an eyebrow as you questioned his logic.

Dean laughed, picking at invisible lint on his lap. “Yeah well.” He glanced up at you, his eyes soft and his mouth ready to say something more.

“DEAN!” Suddenly a very tall man ran into the room, right past you and to the bed side of Dean. “What happened? Are you okay?” You watched as the man came in and cupped Dean’s face, how his eyes softened and filled with worry. For a moment it was just these two men in their own little world. Dean coughed, eyes looking back to you before looking at the intruders.

He stepped back, hands glued to his sides as he looked over you. It took him a moment, but with a quick lick of his lips he shook off anything he had before and replaced himself with a much more hardened version of himself. He wiped the palms of his hands on his jeans and stuck out his hand for you to shake.

“Hi, I’m Sam. You’re the one that found him right? Thank you.” You shook his hand quickly, more intimidated by the largeness of the man in front of you than anything. He cleared his throat again, and made his way back to his brother’s side in a few simple steps.

Dean looked back and forth between you and his brother, his lips pursed as if he were ready to say something but couldn’t. “Okay. Well. It was nice meeting you Dean, Sam. I’ll just… I’ll just go now.” You took a few steps towards the open door, hands back in your pockets.

NO one stopped you as you walked out into the hallway, which you took as a sign that it was okay that you were leaving. You hadn’t planned on staying this long anyway. Dropping Dean off was all you had wanted to do, but you had ended up more worried about the stranger than you thought.

Finally breathing in fresh outside air you found your keys and made your way back to your car. The stench of Dean’s vomit still clung to the air, forcing you to drive with your windows down. You grabbed at your own cellphone, searching through your contacts list for a friend who would help you clean up the mess in the dark car back at your work.

Too Be Continued…


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey, I need a favor…” You started holding your phone against your ear. You sighed.

*

You leaned against the black ominous vehicle, every possible door opened to air out the foul smell inside. The sound of gravel being crushed under the weight of a car approaching forced you to turn and see just who was making their way towards you. “What is going on Y/N?” Your friend Mia said, jumping out of her car and approaching you. She instantly plugged her nose. “What is that smell?”

You peeled your body off the car and joined Mia by her side as she looked into the front seat. “I need help cleaning the car out.” She shot up, eyes wide as she processed what you said. She looked back at the car, shaking her head no as she saw the piles of both dry and not so dry vomit practically all over the place. “I sorta promised the guy who owns it I would.” You said shrugging your shoulders.

“Yeah, well it better be worth it.” She returned her attention to the car, moving closer to get a better view. She grabbed the empty bottle, holding it between two fingers for you to see. “What the hell happened in here?” She shook the bottle, seeing just how empty it really was.

“This guy had a little too much fun.” You laughed. Taking the bottle from her hands and shaking your head. The stain on the ground remained from where you had poured its contents out at.

She moved to the back seat, “Is that blood? Y/N who is this guy?”

You joined her, following her finger to a few rather large drops of blood on the seat. “That’s blood… Look you don’t have to help, I get it.”

“Oh I’ll help,” She pointed a stern finger at you before letting it drop back to her side, “but you owe me big time.” A sigh left her.

You went back into your job, getting the few cleaning supplies you knew you could borrow and replace before anyone would be stepping foot into the place since it was locked up and closed and you and one other person were the only ones with the keys; and he wasn’t due here for a few more hours to open up shop. Mia followed, her little arms full of all she could carry.

You dropped your supplies on the ground next to the car, and looked at the task before you. You leaned in, turning the keys in the ignition and hearing the engine roar to life. Mia jumped a little, taken back by the loud sound that was created. You reached for the radio, turning the knob slowly and the soft sounds of classic rock filled the air.

“What is this guy like 50?” Mia asked, hands on her hips. “I mean don’t get me wrong, I enjoy listening to it, but really? And on a tape?”

You laughed, climbing out of the seat carefully. “Oh Mia, you are going to eat those words.” You didn’t think she heard, but the small smirk on her lips told you she had.

Before you knew it you both were rocking out and cleaning the car. You let Mia take the back seat so that she didn’t have to get too dirty, but she did help when you needed her too. Like the large piles of thick vomit Dean had left, or the blood that had stained some of the leather.

The tape stopped, forcing you to eject it and turn it over before continuing on with your work. You hadn’t realized just how hard it was going to be to clean the inside of the car. But there you sat, the car smelling like the hospital; sterile.

Mia lay in the back seat, while you lay in the front, letting the music wash over you as you finally were done with your task. The doors were still open, and the small breeze rolling through helped clear out the smells.

“Y/N?” Mia asked, sitting up in her seat and looking over the back of yours at you. You looked up and saw the question on her lips as she asked it, “Can we take her for a ride?” Mia asked, her eyes glimmering with hope.

You sat up slowly. “Mia…” You started, wringing your hands in your lap as you thought about it. As far as you knew, Dean was going to be in the hospital for a few more hours, at least he should be. You slid into the diver seat, hands on the wheel. Mia slipped into the front seat after closing the two doors in the back and practically bounced next to you.

“A short little trip.” You held your fingers up showing a little space between them. Mia laughed, leaning over and shutting her door. You followed suit, slamming the door shut next to you. Your hand gripped the gear shift, your foot pressed into the brake. And with a few clicks you were in drive.

You looked up, ready to turn the massive car around and bring it to the streets. But before you stood the tall giant of a man names Sam. You gasped, shifting the car back into park and quickly jumping out of the car. “Is he okay?” you asked, though that wasn’t the first thing you wanted to say.

Sam eyed you, and Mia who was now making her way out of the car, keys in her hand. She handed them to Sam, who didn’t hesitate to stick his hands out for the keys. “We were- we were going to bring it to the hospital, for you.” You quickly lied, knowing full well that it was more than obvious that it was a lie.

Sam scoffed, shoving the keys into his pocket and shifting his gaze between you and Mia. “We uh, we cleaned the car. It was pretty rancid in there.” You scratched at the back of your neck, nerves fully on end.

The Sam in front of you was completely different from the one inside the hospital. This one was scary, almost intimidating as he hovered over you with a good foot above you. “You cleaned out the car?” He asked, eyebrow raised.

“Yes?” You answered.

Sam made his way to the car, looking in through the windows, “Wow, it’s never been this clean.” He said, his body still tense, but less than before. He cleared his throat, “You didn’t, uh. Get into the trunk? Right?”

“No? Dean didn’t throw up in there too did he?” You asked, suddenly worried that you hadn’t cleaned out all of the mess.

Sam chuckled, “No. No I don’t think he did. Thank you- uh.” Sam shifted, his feet grinding into the dirt as he struggled to think of your name. “I don’t think I got your name back at the hospital.”

“Y/N and that’s Mia,” You motioned to the silent small girl next to you. “She helped me. It was a disaster.”

“It was pretty gross in there.” Mia added, her voice small and quiet. Her eyes had never left Sam since the moment he appeared in front of the car and ruined your plans to take it out for a spin.

Sam pointed to the front seat of the car, “You found him, here?” He looked around, taking note of the empty dirt parking lot behind the unmarked building. The only cars close by were your own and Mia’s. both askew in the large area.

“Yeah, just lying in the front seat covered in vomit.” You watched as Sam looked into the car again, noting just how clean it was. “I uh, had to make him throw up again before we could go.”

Sam’s face twisted in disgust about your words. “I am sorry you found him like that.”

“Yeah.” You tried to erase the memories, but they were there to stay. “Is he doing okay?” You asked, suddenly feeling bad for not asking sooner.

“He’s waiting to break out. Just had to come get the car.” Sam pat the car gently, hand slapping against the cold metal.

Sam looked up, the sound of gravel and a car forced everyone to glance over. “Shit.” You muttered. And before you knew it you and Mia were grabbing all the supplies that you could from the ground around you. Sam watched as the two of you frantically moved about, listening to the string of curse words leaving your mouths as the car continued to grow closer.

“Whats going on?” Sam asked, grabbing a bucket you dropped.

“That’s our boss. And these are his supplies. Come with us.” Sam didn’t hesitate to follow, his large steps kept in right in tow as you and Mia ran into the unmarked building. You shoved him and the supplies into the closet just in time as your boss opened the door.

“Mia, Y/N. You both are here early.” Ted your boss said, standing in the door way, a silhouette with the sun behind him. “Everything okay?”

Mia cleared eyed you before making her way past you. “Yeah Ted. Hey, maybe you can help me look for my phone. I think I left it here.” Mia motioned behind her back for you to go and get Sam out as well, as she walked down the hall to Ted’s office.

You opened the door, only to find Sam still holding his bucket with a look of confusion on his face. You threw the bucket on the ground, and pulled him out and down the hall. It wasn’t until you were out in the safe outside that you felt the breath that you were holding leave your body.

“Uh, what just happened?” Sam asked, brushing off his chest. “What is that place?”

You sighed, hoping Mia would join you shortly. “My boss. He’s not the nicest. And would flip out if he saw you. Sorry about that.” You scratched at your arm, “Oh, it’s a strip club.”

“You’re joking right? My brother passed out in front of a strip club?” Sam laughed more to himself than anything, but he could tell by the way you were crossing your arms over your chest that you weren’t happy with the way he was acting to where he realized you were.

“Yeah?” You tapped your foot on the ground, “What about it?”

He raised his hands as if to thwart off your attacks. “No, I don’t mean it like that. It’s just, did he go in there? Or did he not make it in?”

You still kept your arms crossed over your chest, but this time it was more to hide yourself from his prying eyes than in anger. “I don’t know. I didn’t work the floor that night.”

The laugh that left him made you smile. Mia came practically running out of the building, clutching to your arm as she pulled you to what she considered a safe distance. “God I hate him.” She all but shrieked, shaking her body as if he were crawling on her like a million bugs as she spoke.

Sam eyed the two of you before clearing his throat. “Thank you both for cleaning the Impala out. I’ll be sure to let Dean know all you did for him.” Sam jingled the keys in his hand.


	3. Chapter 3

You threw your keys into the designated bowl on the counter as you made your way into your home. You had made it just in time for a few hours of sleep before you had to return to the club for yet another long shift that you were not looking forward to. Mia had texted that she successfully made it home and was going to crash. Which is what you had intended to do as you peeled your clothes off one article at a time. But by the time you made it to your bed and lay down on it, you knew that it probably wasn’t going to happen.

Your body felt tired, like every muscle ached, but every time you closed your eyes to fall asleep something washed over you and forced you awake. You groaned, turning yourself over and curling into your blanket. You closed your eyes again but as you did you witnessed seeing Dean for the first time all over again.

The way he lay there, lifeless, barely breathing. The vomit on his lips and chest. Past that you could smell the whiskey he had obviously spilt all over himself. And for a stranger you had no idea what came over you to care so much. You had seen many customers passed out drunk before, and you had tried to help them, but never like you had for Dean Winchester, or Page as he had had the doctor call him.

*x*

Sam walked the halls of the hospital with his boots clanking against the tile. Hospitals had become one of Sam’s least favorite places to be, hence why he and Dena had learned how to take care of most the wounds they acquired on the job. And every now and then they accepted that they needed to suck it up and lay in a hospital bed for a day or two, but he wasn’t too happy to see Dean once again in a bed.

Sam rounded the corner, taking a deep breath before he made his way into the small confining room. He put on his brave face though, or the bravest he could with Dean around, so that his older brother wouldn’t know how uncomfortable he was.

Dean smiled as Sam entered the room. Sam instantly threw the car keys at his brother, as reassurance that he had in fact gotten the car. “Oh baby. I miss you.” Dean cooed at the keys, “Sorry for the mess.” He said to Sam, putting the keys on the table at his side.

“Actually. That Y/N cleaned it up all nice and perfect. Smells like this place in there.” Sam looked around the room, not that there was much to look at. Like most hospital rooms it just held a bed with equipment surrounding it, and a chair for Sam to sit in, which he opted against.

Dean had to think about what Sam had said, “What? My Baby smells like disinfectant and dying people?” Sam shook his head, “And Y/N did that?” Dean asked. Sam nodded.

Sam shoved his hands in his pockets, “So got a plan?”

“Of course. Just needed my baby.” Dean practically jumped out of the hospital bed, his jeans already on. He slipped into his shirt quickly, discarding the gown on the bed. He turned to his brother, a smile on his lips as he shrugged into his many other layers.

Both men made their way down the hall without turning back. Dean welcomed the fresh air with open lungs. He searched the parking lot of the black of his car, and when he found it instantly he made his way to it quickly.

He opened the door, and felt disgusted with the smell of cleanliness. “Man, I don’t think even I have gotten her this clean. And there have been some days where I had a lot of time on my hands.”

“Tell me about it. Y/N even got the blood stains out.” Sam gestured to the back seat where blood had stained the leather from a recent hunt, blood that neither of them had been able to clean out even with elbow grease.

“Wow.” Was all Dean could say. But he knew the simple thank you he had said to you while hooked up to machines in the hospital wasn’t enough for all that You had done for him. He roared the engine to life and lurched the car forward, the familiar feeling of the steering wheel back in his hands.

Sam sighed, “So are we ever going to talk about why you left in the first place?” He tried to keep glancing at his brother, but he opted to keep his eyes on the road instead.

Dean had his eyes glued in front of him, growing ever annoyed with his younger brother. “Come on Sammy. I just got out the hospital.” Dean motioned to his body, though there were no visible signs that he had been just hospitalized. Except for the thick white band around his wrist, one that he was now actively trying to rip off.

“No you come on.” Sam watched his brother struggle to remove his wrist band. “You leave in the middle of the night, in the middle of the hunt, and some, some stripper finds you passed out drunk in your car.” Sam could hear his voice rising in both octave and volume. He took a short breath to control himself before asking one last question. “What the hell is going on man?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Dean barked, giving his brother a look that told him to not continue to pester. “A stripper?” He asked after a moment of thinking. “Y/N?”

“And her friend Mia.” Sam concluded, though he was still mad he shoved it aside, like always. That was the Winchester way after all.

*x*

_“That's all they really want / Some fun / When the working day is done / Oh girls they wanna have fun / Oh girls just wanna have fun”_ You jolted awake, searching frantically for your phone. You gripped the phone tight in your hand and blinked a few times before you could see the screen clearly. Though you knew who it was already.

“What?” You croaked into the phone, “What do you want?”

Laughter sounded on the other end which only fueled your waking up anger. “You obviously don’t know what time it is. Look I can stall Ted for another hour but you gotta come into work.” If you weren’t awake already you were now.

You fell out of your bed with a loud thump, your blankets wrapped around your legs tightly. You untangled yourself, hearing the music behind Mia on her end. “Shit Shit Shit.” You cursed hanging up your phone and running to your bathroom.

That was the moment you knew you were going to need more than an hour. Your hair, which you had forgot was hair sprayed and teased the night before. Now though, now your hair was on the verge of becoming a nest for some poor animal who was seeking shelter. You huffed, throwing yourself into your shower and allowing yourself you be hit with the cold water before it warmed.

You ran into your work, still looking like a mess, but a better looking mess than when you woke up. Thankfully, working in a strip club meant that there was always someone around for hair and make-up. “Jayce! I need you to work your miracle worker magic on me!” You yelled entering the dressing room.

Jayce leaned against a table his arms crossed over his chest and an eye brow raised. “What happened to you last night!” Jayce joked, helping you into the seat so he could start on you. He ran his fingers through your still damp hair, “Really. What happened to you?”

“I just had a distraction. Didn’t get any sleep.” You said, watching as Jayce started to turn on various gadgets to tame your starting to frizz mane. “You really are the best person here.” He touched your shoulder gently and started on his work. In less than 30 minutes you were practically red carpet ready.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” You said, squeezing him tightly.

He just laughed, and squeezed you back. “Anything for the boss.” He clicked his tongue and gave you a thumbs up as you disappeared behind a curtain.

“Y/N!” Ted yelled from somewhere, forcing you to stop in your tracks and roll your eyes. You plastered on a fake smile before turning around to find him, hopeful that he couldn’t tell the utter annoyance you felt being around him. “There you are Y/N. how did that doctors appointment go?”

“Fine. Just a little checkup. Nothing too bad. Sorry I didn’t warn you about it. I swear I meant to.”

“Its all good. Glad you’re here.” The look on Teds face told you the next words coming out of his mouth were going to upset you, but you tried as hard as you could to remain hopeful that it would just be his normal pervy words. “We actually need you on the floor tonight. A few other girls called in sick and we don’t have enough time for a replacement. So go put on an outfit and get out there. Thanks a bunch Y/N!”

For once you wished the words were something more along the lines of how your chest looked in your top, or whatever else he would normally blurt out at random. Working on the floor meant grabby hands, and spilt drinks, none of which you had gotten enough sleep for.

With a deep sigh you changed direction and made it to wardrobe, searching the rack for something to slip into. You chose something simple, black and lacy, for your debut back to the floor of the club. “Looking good!” Mia said from behind you. She was a regular on the floor, and was a lot more comfortable in less clothing than you were at this particular moment. Though you could recall not too long ago when you yourself had been where she was.

“Oh stop it. If it weren’t for everyone calling in sick, then I wouldn’t have to be dressed like this.”  You motioned to your bare legs and stomach. Mia just shook her head, pushing past you.

“You know they aren’t sick right?” You followed her down the hallway to the floor where you would get your tray. “I guess Gina’s having some big shindig for her and her boyfriend of the week.” Mia handed you your tray. “She invited the whole crew.”

The club was pretty empty, and as you walked around you grew more thankful for that fact. “Of course she did. Well I’m glad you’re here.” You pat her on the back as you both walked down the stairs and entered the club.

Customers sat scattered around, and while you were glad for the emptiness of the club, you knew it was still just too early for the real party. “Just like old times?” Mia asked, gesturing to one side of the club. You nodded, taking the other half.

A man sat at a table alone, his back to the stage that currently was being occupied by a girl dancing her heart out to some song you’d never heard before. “Hello sir, can I-“ Your words fell short in your mouth as you saw the gentlemen’s face. His scabbed fingers wrapped around a Tumblr full of amber liquid and anger seeped into you. “You’re really drinking after all that?”

Dean raised his hands in defeat. “No! I just couldn’t sit here with an empty glass! Do you know how many girls came up and offered be a drink before I said yes so they would stop?” You shifted your weight hand on your hip making sure Dean got the best of your anger face.

He raised his hands higher, “I promise Y/N. I swore off drinking for a while.”

“Good,” You eyed his hand which went back to holding the tumbler with a death grip. “I don’t feel like finding you passed out again. I might just not help you this time.” You said, knowing you were joking. If Dean passed out again you would leave work to make sure he was okay.

Dean smiled, “Good to know.”

You both fell quiet, music being the only thing between you. But when the song stopped and the air still remained thick between you two you gulped, realizing where you were and what you were wearing. You hoped the sudden insecurity wasn’t apparent on your face, and if you could, you would hide behind the tray. “What are you doing here?”

Dean’s eyes raked over you slowly, you could feel the flush of red covering you as he did so, taking an extra-long time on your legs. “I uh- didn’t believe Sam when he told me you were an uh- entertainer.” He rubbed at his cheek, eyes trying to look anywhere but at you.

“Oh. Yeah. I’m not actually. I usually work the office part. But they were short staffed tonight and needed me- that’s not important.” You looked up just in time to see Ted eyeing you, making the motion for you to start giving Dean a little more attention than you were already giving him. You sighed, setting your tray down and leaning next to Dean’s ear. “I didn’t think you’d be out by now.”

You couldn’t tell, but you thought Dean shivered as you climbed on top of him. “Yeah. Doc said I was perfect.” Dean gulped as you ran your hand down the side of his face while bouncing on him gently. “You sure you’re just an office girl?”

You laughed, “I used to work out here. So where is Sam?” You looked around, only spotting Ted with his glare still on you. You climbed off Dean, turning around and bending down in front of him. Your hips swayed to the music as you danced. When you returned, Ted was no longer watching you, but was watching Mia.

“He doesn’t know I am here.” You watched as Dean gripped his glass tighter, forcing a new found confidence to rise inside of you. “Pretty sure a strip club is the last place he thinks I need to be.” Dean tried hard to stay focused on what he thought was appropriate, but every so often his eyes would flick to your almost exposed parts as you danced in front of him.

“Well he’s not wrong.” You set your heel covered foot between his legs, dragging your fingers gently up your legs. “And now that you have in fact confirmed I am an entertainer, why are you really here?”

“To uh-“ You sat on his lap, “ thank you for everything. I-“ You grinded against him, feeling the hardness you had created. A playful smile formed on your face but you didn’t stop. “Wow – was going to ask you out for dinner, but I guess in this case breakfast to thank you.”

You stopped dancing, looking down at Dean as his eyes met with yours. “Really?” He nodded, scared the words that were going to leave his mouth weren’t going to come out right. “Sure. I get off at… 4. I’ll meet you out back?” Once again Dean nodded, still not trusting words and his brain to function correctly.


	4. Chapter 4

 The excessive banging on your front door forced you to get off your couch and answer it. You dropped your spoon into your bowl of ice cream and ran to see who could possibly need to talk to you so badly. You threw it open, and cocked your head to the side when a bouncing Mia stood before you. "What the-"

"How did it go? What happened? I want details. I NEED details." She forced her way past you, pacing inside your living room until you joined her with your arms crossed over her chest. "Oh ice cream, it didn't go well did it?" She sat on the couch, flicking at your spoon.

You scoffed as you joined her, picking up the bowl and spooning a scoop into your mouth. "Actually it was perfect. The ice cream is just an added bonus." 

Mia bounced again, "Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!"

"It was simple, we went to breakfast, we talked, he drove me back to the club, and then I came home." You leaned against the arm of your couch, legs curled up as you watched the smile on Mia's face grow and fade with every word.

She practically pulled at her hair, "And nothing happened?" You could feel her eyes on you, watching your reaction to her question and hoping for more.

You stirred your now mostly melted ice cream. Through your lashes you looked up at her, a smile on your face, "Well..."

"TELL ME!" She leaned forward, her hands gripping your shoulders as she shook you repeating her words over and over again.

You laughed when Mia finally let you go and sat back. She ran a hand through her hair, "Okay tell me."

You set your ice cream down, crossing your legs and leaning forward. "He took me back to the club to get my car, but we ended up in the back seat of his." 

"No. Freakin'. Way." Mia said, clapping her hands over her mouth. "Details woman!"

* * *

Dean jumped out of his side of the car, practically running to yours so he could let you out. You watched, laughing at his attempt to be such a gentleman. And when he opened the door for you, you gladly accepted it dragging your hand across his arm as you said thank you.

You thought Dean deliberately parked a fair amount away from your car on purpose, or at least you hoped that was the reason you both had to walk across the parking lot to your car. Dean shoved his hands in his pockets as he stood next to you in silence. You sighed, "Thank you for breakfast. You didn't have to pay ya know."

You leaned against his car, the cool metal against your back as you crossed your arms over your chest. Dean licked his lips. "A gentleman always pays." He said, flashing you a smile that made your knees shake.

"Oh, and do gentlemen frequent strip clubs?" You cocked an eyebrow, looking over his body in a quick flick of your eyes.

"Only the best ones do." You didn't realize when, but Dean had managed to step closer to you. Now he stood so you could feel the heat radiating off him. "And if they are smart, they only come to see the most important act." He whispered in your ear.

His hands helped keep him up around you as he practically hovered near you. His breath was hot against your ear. You shivered under him and he felt it. One of his hands found your wrist and gently he trailed his fingers up your arm. You closed your eyes tight for a moment, convincing yourself that this was really happening.

Dean's hand found your cheek, pushing a few strands of your hair from your face and tucking them safely behind your ear. "I have wanted to do this since the hospital." His voice was low and husky. You didn't get a chance to ask what, not that you needed to.

Deans lips pressed gently against yours, tenderly kissing you as he wrapped his hand behind your head. He feared you'd push him away, despite the signs that you were just as attracted to him as he was to you. His other hand snaked around your waist, bringing you closer to him, making your body flush against his.

The heat between you was enough to make your knees weak, but when Dean's lips parted, and his tongue darted across your lips you melted into him. Your body finally seeming to catch up with what was happening around you. Your hands ran up his back until they met with his hair line, fingers running through and pulling slightly. Dean groaned into your mouth and with his hips pushed you harder against the car.

He raked his hands against your hips, his hardened hands scratching against your soft skin. Your lips parted and his tongue found its way inside of you. He squeezed at your hips, trying harder to push against you. Your hands ran down his chest until they reached his belt, you trailed a finger against the skin of his stomach. He parted from you, his forehead against yours. Both of you breathing hard. You sucked your lower lip into your mouth and waited to see what would happen next.

Dean thought about his options here. He enjoyed kissing you, and wanted this to continue as quickly as possible. But the fact that it was broad daylight and he was in the middle of a parking lot put a damper on his plans to invite you into the back seat of his car. Not that he would have minded if anyone caught you both in the act, but he wanted to be classier than that. Needed to be. But with his hands still pressing your hips into his he couldn't help it.

You looked up at him, eyes fluttering as you still came down from the high that was kissing Dean Winchester. Dean pulled away, his eyes darting over your face. Your hand ran across the body of the car behind you as you searched for the handle to the back door. Dean licked his lips as he watched you, and when it finally clicked in his head what you were trying to do he helped you.

You climbed in first, sliding all the way in and looking out the windows to make sure that no one was around. Dean did a glance over too before joining you in the back seat. He climbed over to you, cupping your face in his hands as he kissed you again. This time though the kiss had more passion to it, a certain hunger that you felt yourself reciprocating when you bit at his lower lip.

Another deep groan from Dean filled your mouth as he pushed you under him. He dragged a hand down your side until he found the hem of your shirt. He tugged at it, attempting to pull it over your head. You laughed as you leaned forward, trying to not break the kiss as you helped him out. Dean sat up after your threw your shirt into the front seat.

"Y/N." He breathed. A soft blush started to creep over not only your face, but the rest of you as well as you felt Dean's eyes combing every inch of you. "Is that?" You nodded, answering his question before he could ask. "You have no idea the thoughts I had when you walked out in this."

He thumbed the lace gently. You laughed again. You never took off the outfit from the club. Black lace covered your breasts, pushing them up and giving an illusion that they were bigger than they were. The lace went farther down and became more see-through, almost reaching your belly button. As much as Dean wanted to take it off he couldn't, the image of you under him like this was driving him insane enough.

He leaned down, trailing kisses from your neck to your chest. He kissed the lace where your nipple rest under it, his hand cupping your other breast. "So hot." He said, looking up at you through his thick lashes. He peeled back what he could, what he needed to so he could flick his tongue across your already hardened nipple.

You moaned, arching your back, begging for more; and Dean gladly gave you more. His tongue flicked again, and when he got the same response he wrapped his lips around it, sucking it into his mouth. You bit your lip, stifling the sounds that were forcing their way out of you. Dean didn't know, but it had been years since anyone had touched you like this, since you had even remotely been in this sort of situation.

Dean sat up, pulling his own shirt off and letting it join yours in the front seat. You dragged your hands across his newly exposed chest, fingers feeling every hardened muscle you could. Dean leaned down, planting another soft kiss against your lips.

* * *

"What no? You can't leave me there. What happened next?" Mia asked, she had helped herself to her own bowl of ice cream while you talked, and all but stabbed you with the spoon when you stopped.

You crossed your arms over your chest. "Nothing. Nothing happened."

Mia eyed you trying to tell if you were telling the truth or not. She scooped her last scoop into her mouth and pointed the spoon at you again. "What happened?" Her voice more serious this time.

* * *

A knock on the window forced Dean to stop everything he was doing. His hands on your thigh, his lips on yours. He paused, hovering over you before yet another string of knocks happened. He glanced up, making sure to stay close to you so no one could see just how exposed he had gotten you.

Dean reached a hand over the front seat and gripped a t-shirt for you to slip on as he sat up and ran his hands through his hair. You didn't care that he grabbed his shirt as you slipped it over your head and let it fall around you. You turned to see who was breaking you up, and you felt your mouth go slack when Ted hovered over the window behind you.

Ted wore his signature annoyed scowl, and even though you couldn't see it, you knew he was tapping his foot against the dirt under it as well. You sighed, opening the door and stepping out into the real world. "What do you want Ted?"

"There are a million other places you could be doing... that." He gestured to the car. "And outside of my club is not one of them. Do you want the customers to start thinking all my girls are this easy?"

You stood there, arms crossed over your chest as his words seemed to come out in slow motion _"Do you want the customers to start thinking all my girls are this easy?"_ Anger bubbled inside of you, and it took all your strength to keep your hands from reaching out and slapping Ted.

"Excuse me?" Dean asked, now standing by your side. You weren't sure when he had gotten out of the car, but you were thankful that he was.

Ted looked over the much taller man, and yet still somehow managed to keep his face in the same annoyed look. "And who do you think you are?" 

"I'm the guy who's going to kick your ass for calling Y/N easy." Dean pointed a stern finger as he spoke through clenched teeth. You reached out, gripping his arm and attempting to pull him back. He glanced down at you and saw the worry in your eyes, and instantly his body softened.

"If she's willing to hook up behind a strip club in the back seat of your rust bucket, she's easy."

The clear sound of a fist making contact with Teds face rang out through the parking lot, and the groan that left Ted lingered as he took a step back and clutched at his newly hurt face. Dean clutched at your shoulders, practically lifting you up and forcing you to stand behind him. "Okay, chill out." He told you before turning back to Ted. While your punch had obviously affected the grown man, the punch that Dean laid on him knocked Ted to the ground in a heap of passed out bones and flesh.

"Dean!" You yelled as he bent down, but you quickly wanted to take it back when he picked up Ted like he weighed nothing and threw him over his shoulder.

"Where should I put him?" Dean asked, as if this was some sort or regular occurrence. You pointed to the club and Dean quickly made his way to the back door. He followed you as you led him to the office, where he all but dropped him into the office chair before turning and leaving the office.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

Dean threw open the door to the hotel room, slamming it shut behind him. He didn't pay much attention to his brother who was in the same spot where he had left him, only now a laptop occupied his attention. Dean grunted as he wrapped his hand with a towel, leaning against the table.

"Please tell me that you didn't do that to her." Sam closed his lap top and threw his legs over his bed. He rose to his feet and looked down at his brothers newly bandaged fist.

Dean scoffed, "No, her asshole of a boss." Dean laughed. "Anyway. I'm assuming you found us a case?"

"Uh yeah. Well not here, the next town over, but. Are you sure you want to take a case on? I thought you'd want to spend every minute with Y/N." Sam sung your name, teasing Dean.

Dean punched his brother in the shoulder and shook his head. Dean reached into the fridge happily provided by the hotel room and fished out a beer. Sam shifted his weight and cleared his throat; showing obvious annoyance with Deans actions. Dean paid no mind, he shrugged off his brother's annoyance by drinking his beer in full and grabbing another. Sam tried hard to not pay attention, tried to pretend the cracks of the cans opening were something else; Dean drinking soda, anything other than beer after a night like the other one.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Get it off your chest. I know you're dying to." He watched Sam lick his lips in preparation for the speech that was probably running through his mind.

"Are you ever going to explain to me what happened the other night?" Sam asked, noticing his voice rising slightly. He hadn't wanted to get loud about it, but he was upset. Upset that Dean was hiding something.

Dean thought about it, giving himself a second of silence before answering with a very stern "No."

"So I'm just supposed to just ignore that you were found in your car covered in vomit. Or that you were in the hospital? Dean what the hell is going on with you?" Sam stood closer to his brother now, his voice reaching a whole new level of loudness that even hurt his ears.

Dean scoffed, "I don't have to deal with this." Dean finished his drink, crushing the can in in his hands and setting it down. He shoved his hands in his pockets and jingled his keys for Sam to see. Sam shifted his weight and rolled his eyes as Dean slammed the door behind him again.

* * *

You parked your car in front of the club, hands wringing the steering wheel as you looked at the door you should have been entering. Instead time passed, and there you sat. Your nerves taking their toll out on the steering wheel in front of you. One last sigh and finally you gripped the door handle and pried it open. Your feet hit the dirt under them with a crunch.

Each step was agonizingly slow as you made your way to the door. It opened before you could enter and a string of girls coming out due to shift change made their way past you. They waved and said hello as they passed, giving you smiles. You sighed again before entering the building, doing your best to avoid Ted, who you hadn't seen since Dean and you had punched him. Which at this point had been a few days now.

You hadn't heard from Dean either, but you tried to pay no mind to that. After all, he had mentioned he was a drifter. Your office was empty, Ted nowhere in sight. You threw yourself into your chair and placed your head on your desk. At least you were back to the books, no more out front getting groped or dancing for the peeping toms.

"Ah, you decided to show up today. Good." Ted said, entering the office space you both shared.

You rolled your eyes. "I'm on the schedule." You tried to hide the annoyance in your voice, but even you heard it loud and clear.

Ted sat in his seat, leaning back and crossing his hands over his lap, "Yes, but not in here. Go change, you're on the floor again." A grin on his face told you he wasn't joking, and when his eyes raked over you, and his tongue darted over his lower lip it only confirmed that you were going to be on the floor again.

"Why?" You asked.

"We're understaffed again."

"And you couldn't call anyone else in."

"Nope."

You threw your purse down on your desk, "Course not." And you stormed out of the room. With huff to your step you made your way to change and threw on the first thing you grabbed. At this point, the anger you were feeling blocked everything else out, and before you knew it you were walking out to the floor with less than nothing covering your body.

With a tray in your hands and the biggest fake smile you could plaster on you made your rounds. The floor was just as you had remembered, full of crawling hands and cat calls. For a moment you lost yourself in it, allowed a few hands to roam your skin, and took on the character you had created so many years ago when you worked on the floor. You had to, there was no way that you would be out here, but your alias could do just about anything.

And suddenly everything seemed to be in slow motion. You saw the man in front of you, saw him walking backwards towards you with a gang of other equally large men behind him. You saw yourself not slowing as you moved forward with your tray and drinks. So when you both collided, and the tray came crashing to the floor, your surprise was real, and yet unwarranted. You couldn't stop the actions unfolding before you, and when glasses shattered and your legs were covered in various alcohols, you knew Ted would round the corner soon to revel in this.

"Excuse me?" The man you hit started to yell, turning around and looking down at you. He scoffed, looking back at his friends before he opened his mouth again. "I don't think your job description mentions spilling drinks on guests. I mean unless they pay for it." He leaned back, silently asking the men behind him to laugh along with him, and they did.

You crossed your arms over your chest, tapping your heel against the now wet floor. He looked over you again, this time much slower. "But uh-" He licked his lips and took a step closer to you, his shoes crunching a few shards of broken glass. "I think I can let it go if you take me to that V.I.P. room for a little one on one session."

You played along, closing the gap between the two of you until you were almost touching him. You raised your hands, running your fingers through his hair. You stood on your tiptoes bringing your lips to his ear, "Oh honey, you can't afford that, I think the trash on the street are more fitting for your wallet."

The man grabbed your wrist tightly, pulling it away from his hair, squeezing till your fingers started to numb. He clenched his teeth, giving you a painful smile and a small chuckle. You looked to his friends, all of which had taken a step back, faces emotionless. "You're going to regret that." He squeezed tighter and you finally let out a whimper from the pain.

"Rule number one boys, no touching!" Ted walked through, his nose buried in papers as he purposely walked between you and the man holding you, forcing him to drop your wrist. "Clean this mess up Y/N quickly." And he disappeared.

You clutched at your bruising wrist, watching the man and his gang of friends turn tail and leave you to your mess. You mentally thanked Ted, he might not know it, but he possibly saved you from something horrific without even really knowing it.

* * *

The cheers and music helped to distract you from the string of curse words that tempted to leave your lips as you stood on the large stage all alone. Your leg wrapped around a pole as you did your dance. You reviled in the fact that you could still remember the moves and could still accomplish all of them. You were practically on autopilot as you got down on your hands and knees at the edge of the stage, allowing your angry thoughts to distract you from the hands reaching out and giving you money.

It wasn't until a hand gripped your wrist, the one previously squeezed and where a nice ring of purple had started to form, that you paid attention to your surroundings. The same snickering grin looked up at you, the same hand applying the same pressure as before.

You attempted to pull away, trying to rip free of his grasp, only to be met with equal force bringing you down. He pulled you off the stage, forcing you to fall to your knees in front of him. The crowd shushed, music still playing from all around as they all watched the actions unfold before them.

You looked up, hoping that this was nothing more than a dream, a fantasy you were playing out in your mind as you still danced on the brightly lit stage. Except, the grip on your wrist tightening told you it wasn't. This was real, and you were on your knees in front of a large crowd while this man stood over you.

You searched for the security guard Jeff, who was approaching you with hurried steps. Before he reached you though the grip on you loosened and the man threatening you fell to the floor before you. In shock you looked over his body, he lay there completely knocked out cold his breathing shallow.

Everything next happened so fast, Jeff came finally, helping you to your feet and looking over your wrist to see if it was damaged. "I'm fine." You said, nodding to Jeff who now turned his attention to who had brought down the creep in the first place.

Dean stood, breathing heavy his hands still clenched into fists at his side as he looked over the heap of a man at your feet. "Dean?" You asked, stepping over him, closing the gap between you two. "Dean are you okay?"

"I will be." Dean pushed past you, lifting your attacker over his shoulder just like he had with Ted.

Jeff followed, "Sir, you need to set that man down. Sir you cannot start a fight in the middle of the club and get away with it." His words seeming to brush off Dean as if they didn't even exist.

A few of the girls on the floor ran to your aid, all looking over your wrist with anger and worry, but your attention was on Dean, and the limp man he was carrying out of the club.

"That guy deserved to get hit like that."

"Jeff is too sweet to do something like that."

"Do you know who he is?"

"I don't know, but I'd love to give him a lap dance."

You ignored their words and ran after Dean. He had left the building now, barreling through the open doors with a swift kick. Jeff continued to follow, but it was true, he was a giant softy who wouldn't get in Dean's way to stop him.

The sun was gone, replaced instead by moon and stars overhead. You could hear Jeff continuing to try and talk Dean out of whatever he had planned, but nothing was coming back from Dean. You spotted them, Dean dropping the heap of a man to the ground with a loud thump.

"Dean!" You called, drawing Jeff's attention but not Dean's. You watched with wide eyes as Dean raised his fist, and made contact with the unconscious man. You ran, "Dean!" You called again, hoping to break through his blind rage. "Dean stop!"

Dean didn't, and now Jeff was trying to pull Dean off the bleeding man on the ground. Dean pushed the body guard off of him, and Jeff stumbled back a few steps. Now you were next to Dean, holding his arm and begging him to pay attention to you. "Dean! Please! Look it's me, I am okay. Please Dean, stop!"

Dean looked down at you, a crazed look in his eyes. Jeff wrapped his hand around Dean's, not allowing it to once more make contact with anyone. Dean's hardened face softened as he continued to look at you. "Dean please." You don't know when they started, but tears were streaming down your face, your voice breaking as you said his name. "I am okay. You don't have to do this." You continued.

"Y/N are you sure you're okay?" He asked, Jeff pulling him from the body and forcing him to sit a few feet away. You nodded a response, "I am- I am so sorry." His voice cracked, he looked over at the bleeding mess of a man in front of him.

"You better be." Jeff let go of Dean, accepting that he wasn't going to attack any longer. "You know this man?" Jeff asked you.

"Yeah, I uh- sort of know him." You said.

"Well call him a cab and get him off the property. He can't stay and he can't drive." Jeff bent down, checking the pulse of the hurt man.

Dean laughed, "I can drive."

"Sir, you smell like you showered in whiskey, you are not driving tonight. And call an ambulance after you call him a cab. You're lucky this man is still alive."

"I'll call Sam?" You asked, ignoring Jeff's words.

"No." Dean said sternly. You reached into his pocket, grabbing his phone and taking a few moments to crack his code once again. Despite his orders, you called Sam, knowing he was the only one who could possibly deal with this situation.

"Hey, I need you to come to the club." You looked down at Dean, watching his head bob, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes wandering, not focusing on anything in particular. "Dean needs you."


	6. Chapter 6

Sam huffed as he entered the room. He threw his wad of a shirt in a heap on his bed. "Sorry Y/N. You shouldn't have had to see him like that." Sam kept his eyes off of you as he made his way to his bag. He walked past you, making sure to obscure his vision so he didn't see you. In the car ride it had been easy, he faced forward, but now...

"Its okay. It actually happens a lot more than you think at the club." You laughed, replaying the many fight scenes happening before. "Is he going to be okay?" You asked. Sam held up a neatly folded shirt in his hands for you. You took it hesitantly, but when you remembered that you still only wore your stripper get-up you understood.

Sam cleared his throat. "Uh. Usually he bounces back." Sam watched as you rolled up the rather large sleeves of his shirt. He hid a laugh, leaning against the dresser with his arms crossed over his chest.

"But this time?" You asked.

"I don't even know what's bothering him." Sam sighed. "Thank you for calling me." He added, his muscles tensing again.

"I don't think I had any other choice." You threw yourself down on one of the chairs in the room, leaning forward with your head in your hands. "Oh god, I hope Ted doesn't fire me." You said more to yourself as you replayed the actions from earlier.

He was mad, madder than you had ever seen him as he tossed your purse at you and told you to leave. Fights broke out all the time, many from men who knew the dancers. Boyfriends, husbands, weekly flings. But never had one beaten a man the way Dean did. Ted was furious, his face a new shade of red and he didn't pay any mind to your belongings scattering in the dirt at your feet. Had Sam not been there to contain Dean, you feared that he would have sent two people to the hospital.

Sam's words broke you from your thoughts, "Would he do that? I mean Dean didn't..."

"It doesn't matter." You interrupted, you knew Dean's actions weren't anything more than Dean being drunk at the wrong place. But Ted would never see it that way. "Ted hates me and I am pretty sure he's not a huge fan of Dean. He's been looking for an excuse since I started working in the office to get rid of me. Or get me back on the floor. Which he's proven he can do."

"Is there anything I can do?" Sam asked. You looked up at him, seeing the sincere look on his face that he did in fact want to help you.

"'I wish, but there's nothing." You tapped your fingers against the table. "How does Dean know how to fight like that? I mean, I've seen my fare share of bar brawls, but Dean was so calculated with his hits. Almost like he did it professionally."

Sam choked, coughing on air as the words left your mouth. "He uh-" Sam's mind raced for a lie, but he couldn't come up with anything you would believe. "We used to be cops. In Kansas." Sam scratched at his arm, he hadn't been so nervous to lie before. After all lying was his job.

"So you guys have seen some things." Your eyes fell to the floor. It couldn't have been easy to be a cop, sure you had your good easy days, but the world was horrific. You couldn't even imagine.

"Oh yeah. Lots." Sam continued to lie.

You looked up at Sam once more, "Do you think that's what's messing with him?"

"I honestly hope it's something as easy as that." Sam sighed, prying himself off the dresser and pacing a little. He hadn't been able to stop thinking of Dean's behavior. It had been so long since something like this happened to Dean, and per usual, Dean shut everyone out until things got so bad.

"Easy?" You asked, unable to understand how anything that could drive a man to that behavior would be easy to fix.

"I just mean it's easy to work to fix him if it's just a little PTSD or something." Sam sat across from you at the table, his leg bouncing under him.

"Right. Well, can I help?" You asked, looking over Sam's reaction. "I'm beginning to think I'll have a lot of time on my hands." You said, running your hands through your hair.

"I'll let you know." The corner of Sam's lip curled up in a smile, a small laugh came out as well. You both sat there for a moment, the silence taking over for a moment. Not that either of you minded, the silence gave Sam time to think about what he was going to do. And it gave you the time to think about the actions of tonight.

"I should get going." You pulled yourself up from the table, "Its late, and I have glitter to wash off." You tucked your purse under your arm. "Thanks for the shirt."

"No problem." Sam said, giving you a little wave as you left his room.

* * *

You walked past Dean's room, glancing at the open door. Sam had wanted to keep it open for when Dean woke up, something about needing to have a long talk with him even if he didn't want it. You pulled at the hem of Sam's sleeves, seeing just how tiny you were in comparison.

Dean grunted, and you heard a small crash come from his room. You looked over at Sam's room, hoping to see the younger of the brother's come out and see what was going on, only he didn't. So with a deep sigh you walked into the room.

Dean lay there, not like he had before. His ankles crossed, and a more than annoyed look on his face. He waved you in, gesturing to join him on the bed. "How you feeling?" You asked, grabbing at a glass on a table and quickly making your way to the bathroom to fill it with water.

"I've been better." He groaned accepting the water from you. You threw your purse down and searched for your aspirin bottle, shaking it a few times before opening it and handing Dean two small white pills. Like the water, he took them, and gave you a small smile. "Thank you." His voice was different now, deeper, grittier.

"Do you- do you remember anything?" You sat farthest you could from Dean, noting the cuts that still took place on his hands.

"No." Dean took another drink of water. "And by the way you're acting, I am assuming I shouldn't try." He set the glass down gently.

You sighed, "Probably not. Well I should be getting home. Take care of yourself Dean." Dean grabbed your arm, pulling your newly bruised wrist closer to himself, "It wasn't you." You said, reassuring him that he wasn't at fault.

Dean cupped your face, pulling you towards him and planting a gentle kiss on your lips. Everything he did was so tender, so soft and sweet, as if he was barely touching you at all. His hand left your cheek, and suddenly you felt so cold. Instead, he ran his hand down the side of your body and gripped your hips pulling your closer to him.

Suddenly you were flush with him, his hand holding the small of your back so you couldn't break free of him, not that you wanted to. This time your hands wandered down his chest, stopping and holding firmly on to his belt. Dean never stopped kissing you, his lips remaining gentle on yours as if he thought he was going to break you.

With shaky fingers you started to undo his belt, hearing the metal clang together as they hit your stomach. You climbed on top of Dean, legs on either side of him. Both his hands held on to your thighs, squeezing them slightly.

You hovered just above Dean, hands working on lowering his jeans ever so slightly. Your small hands dragging against his hardening bulge. Dean lifted his hips, silently begging for more. Dean sat up, pulling your face into his as he kissed you with more passion. A sudden new hunger seeding deep inside of him.

He rolled you over, pressing himself firmly into you. You stayed like this for a few moments, Dean kissing you harder, his hips grinding into yours. Your hands in his hair, pulling at the ends. Both of you were breathing heavy, mixed with light moans escaping your lips.

Dean snaked a hand up your thigh, heat buzzing through you as he did. You could feel wetness pooling between your thighs, could feel the arousal of Deans actions begging for more. He climbed off of you, keeping his touch on you until his rough hand finally found your center; a wave of ecstasy ran through you. He rubbed small circles against you, keeping his skin from touching yours thanks to the underwear you still wore from the club.

Dean's lips left yours for the first time, had you not been distracted by his hand, you would have been more than upset with this. Dean's hand moved faster, and as you bucked your hips a wicked smile appeared on his lips. Your whole body clenched as you reached your climax, your breathing stopped as it rippled through you.

You opened your eyes after a moment, eyes clouded by the ecstasy that was still running its course through you. Dean laughed, unbuttoning your shirt one button at a time starting from the top. He revealed the bra you wore, white and lacy, matching the panties he had just soaked through. He flicked his thump under the padding, feeling your nipple grow harder.

"You're beautiful Y/N." He said, leaning down and planting a kiss on your cheek.

Now it was your turn, you tried to flip Dean over, tried to get him back on his back. His belt still remained open, along with the zipper being down on his jeans, but he hadn't let you work any lower. You ran your hand against his length over his jeans, licking your lips and lowering yourself to its level.

Dean finally turned, allowing you to pull his jeans down ever so slightly. You smiled up at him, eager to reveal Dean.

A loud crash sounded from down the hall, Dean's ears perked up as he lifted himself to his elbows. His door was still ajar; you hadn't felt the need to completely shut it when you entered the room. "Rain check?" Dean asked, kicking his feet over the side of the bed and pulling up his jeans. He leaned down and gave you a gentle kiss, pulling your chin to meet him.

And he was gone, leaving you a confused mess on his bed. You ran a finger over your slightly swollen lips as you looked at the open door. You heard another crash, this one much louder, followed by Dean shouting something. You jumped to your feet, ignoring the fact that your shirt was completely open and your feet bare. You looked up and down the hall before slinking across into Sam's room.

Everything seemed fine, the room seemed just as you left it only a few moments before. You slowly walked in farther, making sure to pay extra attention to your surroundings. "Dean?" You whispered. "Sam?" No reply came.

"Guys? Are you in here?" You asked, making your way to the bathroom. "Sam?" You asked again, still not getting any reply. "Come on this is so not funny."

"Well hello," A British accent sounded from behind you. You turned to it quickly, spinning on the balls of your feet to face this new person. "You're new."


	7. Chapter 7

There you stood, looking over the new face before you. His scruffy beard covered face was watching your every movement intently. “Who are you? Where’s Dean? And Sam?” You covered yourself, pulling at Sam’s shirt so your body was no longer exposed to this stranger.

“Oh don’t worry, your new little pet is just fine.” Crowley said, Shoving his hands in his pockets and starting to make his way around you.

You kept your eyes on him as he circled you, “Pet?”

“The Squirrel.” He stood in front of you again. “Well I can take you to them if you’d like. They’re just downstairs.” He gestured to the open door, the one you had previously ran through. You started to walk towards it, not taking your eyes off the unfamiliar face.

Suddenly you were no longer in the hotel. No. You were in a completely different place now. The air was cold, and you were once again reminded that you were wearing little to nothing. You hugged your arms close, turning to find the new man, only to find that you were now alone.

“Dean? Sam?” You yelled, walking down the dimly lit hallway. Fear grew inside of you the farther you made your way down. You kept looking back, hoping that the stranger would appear, that anyone would. “Dean?” You whispered, pushing open a door.

It creaked, and with slow footsteps you entered the small room. You tried to allow your eyes to adjust but before they completely could you made out two shapes that stood out. You ran to them, falling to your knees and pulling off a rather large thing of fabric.

Sam sat limp in his seat, you cupped his face in your hand, “Sam?” Instantly you looked over at the other person in the room. It had to be Dean right? “Dean!” You yelled sliding in front of him. You pulled off his fabric and held his face up. “Dean, please!”

“Oh good you found them.” The British voice sounded again, and suddenly the room was illuminated. “And I was thinking you were just another… Well.” He gestured to all of you and turned his back to you. Pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

You stood now, your hand lingering on Dean’s shoulder. “What are you doing to them?”

“I have some questions. This is just theatrics really.” He waved his hand around the room. “Been a while since I called upon the boys and done a little beating. They should wake up soon. Which means.” Crowley snapped, and suddenly the room filled with black smoke.

The smoke pushed you into a chair of your own, and with another snap from Crowley’s fingers chains wrapped around your wrists and ankles, tying you in place. “Now the real fun will begin.” Crowley circled behind you and tied a gag around your mouth, keeping you from making any sort of coherent words.

Sam was the first to wake up, he shook his head and quickly scanned the room struggling to break free of his own chains. When he found you facing him he took a double take, and than his face filled with a sort of sadness you hadn’t seen on him before. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, and pointed your head towards Dean. Sam struggled again, the sounds of the chains clanking together echoed in the room. Crowley had disappeared with out a word again, leaving you unable to talk as you waited for the boys to wake up.

Dean stirred, following the same movements as his brother. He pulled at the chains holding him down and looked around the room. “Damnit!” He yelled making you flinch. “You okay Y/N? Sammy?”

“We’re good.” Sam answered for the both of you. You nodded, your attempt to show Dean that you were okay. “Who has us here?”

“When I find out…” Dean tried to shake his way out of the chair, tried to knock it over only to find that it had been cemented to the floor.

“Really Dean?” Crowley asked, walking into the room and shutting the door behind him. “After all our good times? What are you going to do? Stab me with that little angel stick you carry around? Perhaps the demon blade? Come on.”

You sat confused, watching the scene unfold in front of you. _Angel stick? Demon blade?_

“Crowley you let her go. She has nothing to do with this.” Dean said through clenched teeth. Crowley stood a mere inches in front of him, just out of harms way if Dean were to try and attack.

Crowley let out a small laugh, he turned his back to Dean and walked towards you again. He stood behind you, dragging a finger down your cheek to your exposed chest.“On the contrary. She’s my leverage.”

Dean eyed Crowley with so much hatred, so much anger, that it was beginning to fill the room. Sam kept looking back and forth between his brother and Crowley, unsure of what could possibly happen next. “She has no idea.” Sam said, defending Dean’s earlier statements.

“Even better.” Crowley stood now, his hands on your shoulders. You couldn’t see him, but you could bet that he was smiling, giving Dean more fuel for his fire.

“Damnit Crowley!” Dean struggled one more time to break free. You could see the chains biting into his skin and knew if he tried a few more times he was going to be cut and bleeding. You didn’t dare try to move. The chains rested on your already bruised wrists, and the last thing you wanted was the clouds of black smoke to reappear.

“Now that we’re almost all on the same page. Lets discuss why we’re all here shall we?” Crowley left you, returning to his table and making himself another drink. “I think you boys know why I need to have a little chat with you.”

Sam pulled at his chains now, “And the chains are for?”

“Theatrics really. I couldn’t very well chain up your new pet without you both trying to attack. And this is a new suit, Dean-o here would be ripping it to shreds or covering it in blood by now.” Crowley pat. Dean on the shoulder. Dean who sat unmoving except his eyes which never left Crowley.

“Or you could have left her out and called like a normal person.” Sam said

“Ah, normal person. Well you see Moose, I have tried calling. But Dean here keeps hitting that pesky ‘Ignore’ button.” Crowley was testing his fate with Dean, standing so close, and the little touches he would leave on Dean’s arms and shoulders. Even you feared seeing Dean this angry. And you thought you had seen the worst of him at the club. “So I thought I’d just drag you both here. Have a little chat.”

“Well, we’re here. Get chatting.” Dean finally said, his teeth still clenched tightly. His whole body seemed clenched, and he always looked ready to pounce. Sam looked just as angry as Dean, only for different reasons. Sam knew that involving you was a mistake. He knew how Dean got when someone threatened his little brother, and had seen Dean when someone threatened Lisa in the past. It was not someone who needed to be messed with. And Crowley was barking up the wrong tree.

“Dean, Dean, Dean. Calm down would you,? I wouldn’t harm a head on this perfect specimen here.” Your heart raced as Crowley approached you again, pounding so loud in your chest you feared that they could all hear. Crowley didn’t touch you this time, he just stood to close for comfort. You could smell his whiskey, could feel the brush of his pant legs against your exposed skin.

“Then let her go.” Both brothers said.

“No I can’t do that. She’s probably got a million questions. Don’t you deary.” He forced you to nod, your chin in his hands as he bobbed your head up and down. At this point you weren’t breathing at all. His icy cold hands seemed to suck the breath right out of you. “Lets answer some of those questions shall we?”

Dean scoffed, prying Crowley’s attention away from you. “Why does everything need to be such a show with you? Tell us why you had to chain us up and let us go.”

Crowley shook his head and brought his attention back to you. “Now tell me what is racing in that head of yours.” He untied the gag around your mouth and as if on instinct you moved your jaw around wishing you had a free hand to massage it with.

You didn’t speak, you sat there looking into Crowley’s eyes for what seemed like forever. Trapped in them really. It wasn’t until you heard the scuff of Sam’s shoe on the ground that you realized you were still tied up, still being held captive by this man, this man you still didn’t know. “Who are you?” Your voice was so much calmer than you had expected. And even though every fiber of you was telling you to yell for help, you knew that it was an impossible feat.

“Good first question.” Crowley circled around you, nodding his head. “My name is Crowley, and I am the King of Hell.”

“Hell?” You asked.

You could see Dean rolling his eyes, see him slowly attempting to break free of his chains, only to fail. Crowley paid no mind to this, or if he did, he didn’t show it. “Demons, Satan, Lucifer. The whole shebang really.”

You sat there, drinking in what was just said aloud. “But its not-”

“Real? Oh you really snagged a good one here Dean.” Crowley let out a small chuckle. “Everything is real darling. And your boy toy over there, hunts it all. Demons, angels, creepy monsters of the night.”

You sat back in your chair, eyes focused on the ground. “Here, need a drink?” Crowley offered his drink, and while you wanted to take it, you shook your head no. “Next question.”

Things seemed to be moving slower now, as if the room suddenly filled with a thick molasses. You looked around, eyes meeting with Dean for a faction of a moment. His anger was gone, washed away instead with worry and a hint of sadness. He no longer looked like he was trying to break free either.

You glanced at Sam, who’s worry was more than evident on his face. You sighed, slumming in your chair and focusing on the concrete floors once more. “Why am I here?”

“Another good question.” Crowley gave a little clap, “I have a favor to ask of these boys, and something is telling me that having you around will make them say yes.”

“Just ask us already.” Sam said rolling his eyes.

Crowley stood between the boys, took a long drink from his tumbler and went to fix himself another drink. “I’m not done answering her questions. Or am I?” He asked you.

“I don’t have anything else to ask.” Your voice was small and broken. Your eyes never left the floor but you could hear the tapping of Crowley’s over expensive shoes on the ground as he walked around the small room.

He was near you again, but you had lost the ability to be scared. King of Hell? You told yourself you must be dreaming and that none of this was real. “Shame really. I could tell you so much.” He sighed, “Fine down to business. Boys, I have a job for you to do.”

“Of course.” Sam said. Dean wasn’t talking now. He sat slumped in his chair looking defeated.

Crowley noticed this, and kept near you. He drug his hand slowly down your arm, “Its s simple one really. Find this man and bring him to me. Preferably alive.” He threw Dean the picture, it landed perfectly in his lap. He looked down at it and nodded. Nothing more.

“That’s it? The theatrics for that?” Sam asked, growing annoyed. “Who is he? Why can’t you find him yourself?”

Crowley sighed, “Seems he’s picked up a few tricks. Can’t seem to find the bloody bastard anywhere.”

“Send a demon after him.” Sam yelled.

“Can’t.” Crowley shrugged. “He’s hiding from us. He wont hide from you lot though.”

“Damnit Crowley.” Again Sam tried to break free, rattling his chains around his wrists and ankles. He stopped when nothing happened, when only pain seeped up through the chains down to his bones. And now it was his turn to glare evilly at Crowley. Dean had given up completely, waiting patiently to be let go.

“Thank you.” Crowley snapped and the boys disappeared. “Sorry about that love. Now its just you and me.”

“I’d like to go home.” You said, watching Crowley take Sam’s chair for his own now. The chains were gone, now it looked as if it were a normal seat.

He crossed his legs and eyed you, swirling the dark liquid in his tumbler. “Not back to the hotel with Lover-Boy?” He gestured to where Dean had been sitting previously.

“No. Home.” You sighed.

“Deal’s a Deal.” And with that Crowley snapped.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smuty Smut Smut. (finally right!?)

You woke up back in your room, alone and wrapped in the blankets. The TV from your living room buzzed and flashed brightly colored lights at you through your open door. You sighed, throwing your head back down on the pillow and allowing sleep to tickle its fingers over you once more.

You jumped up, looking around your room in a hurried way. Everything was fine, you were fine. You look down at your shirt, Sam’s shirt. It hadn’t been a dream. The whole Crowley taking you to some place and tying you up, it had all been real.

You threw yourself down again, running a hand through your hair and laying there thinking everything over. It had been so easy to convince yourself it was a lie. That Sam had helped you rescue Dean from the club and that you went home. That maybe you had stopped in his room, let him feel you up a little, and returned to where you were now. But no. that wasn’t the case.

Some new person, some magical person, what did he refer to himself as? King of Hell? Had kidnapped you and used you to make the boys do his dirty work. But how had you gotten home? How had you shown up in bed with your TV on?

You got up, making your way around your apartment to make sure that everything was in order. Other than the TV, everything seemed in place. Even Sam’s shirt still remained unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up in a hurried mess.

A knock on your door forced your attention to the door. You hesitated before making your way towards it. You opened it slowly. Dean stood before you, his face worn and tired looking. Bags forming under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept a wink all night. Even his hair, which usually seemed to be perfectly styled was a mess. As if he ran his hands through it repeatedly.

“What?” You asked, turning around and leaving him to shut the door on his own. He did so, entering the room and looking around. He’d never been here before, and suddenly he felt like he was getting to know you a little better. “How did you find my home?”

Dean ran his fingers along the back of your leather couch. “I uh- searched you. You have a lot of records that are easy to get to.” He tapped his fingers on the end of your couch a few times before walking away from it. He didn’t come to close to you, keeping himself at a safe distance.

You sighed, “Of  course.” You disappeared into your kitchen, leaning against your counter tops.

“I wanted to apologize about last night, and make sure you were okay.” Dean yelled, scared to join you in the other room. He looked around more, seeing pictures of a happier younger you smiling with your friends and family. He knew he was smiling, despite everything he was smiling.

“I’m just dandy.” You said your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Coffee?” You offered, making a fresh pot.

Dean thought about it, “Sure.” A few moments later you joined him back in your living room, handing him a cup of coffee and sitting on the couch Dean had previously been looking at. “I am sorry for last night. If I would have known…”

“How could you know?” You asked. Your anger from before gone.

Dean raised the coffee cup to his lips and sipped on the warm liquid inside. “Because it’s Crowley and I should just always know.” Dean set his coffee cup down on the table in front of him as he took a seat next to you.

“Look, I am fine. See, the only bruises I have are from that dickwad at the club.” You saw Dean’s jaw clench and his hands form fists. “But I am fine. Relax.” You cupped his face in your hands and forced him to look at you. His eyes took a moment to turn to you and when they did a fire was burning behind them.

Dean sighed, leaning his forehead forward, resting it against yours. “I don’t ever want to see you in danger like that again.” He raised his hands and held yours to him. His fingers finding their way to interlock with yours. His jaw clenched again, and for a moment he stifled back a soft hiss before looking into your eyes.

You seemed expected and nervous, confident and yet hesitant. Your mostly exposed chest pressed against his arms, making everyone involved unable to form coherent thoughts. The softness of your skin against the rough hardness of Deans.

Deans hands slowly left yours, reaching your own face. He drug his thumb across your lip letting the heat of your breath warm him before he continued his trek downwards. His calloused hands practically scratching at your arms. You purred as you leaned into him, growing ever closer, your nose almost touching his, your lips so close you could almost feel them against you.

You grazed your lips against his and you could smell the whiskey still on his breath from last night. And before you could tell yourself to pull away you covered his mouth with your own. You slipped your tongue into his mouth. Letting your tongues tangle together and your lips continue to consume his. You heard the low groan leave his mouth and knew instantly he was hard.

You smiled against his lips, breathing heavy for a moment. “Why’d you stop?” He asked, his voice deep and husky. Shivers went down your spine.

“I was enjoying it a little too much.” You said, pressing yourself tighter against him.

This time he kissed you, this kiss just as passionate as the first. Both seeming desperate and vulnerable. Your hands wandered across his lap, feeling the hardness in his jeans. You pried your lips off his, kissing his neck and tugging at his ear with your teeth. Dean arched his hips so that he was planted more firmly in your hand. You licked his neck, “You taste so good.” You whispered.

Dean couldn’t take it, he gripped your hips and pulled you to his lap. Gripping your thighs tightly in his hands. His thumbs hooked into your panties, snapping them against your skin a few times. He rocked you against his body, the friction is both satisfying and frustrating.

“You’re huge.” You practically moaned into his ear.

Dean grinned, a small chuckle leaving his lips as his eyes searched your face. “You’re going to love feeling it inside you.”

You bit at his lip, teeth lightly grazing him as you pressed your hips firmly against him. “You’re cocky aren’t you.” You felt him laugh against your neck before he nibbled gently at it.

“You have no idea.” He said before mashing his lips against yours, tongue finding its way into your mouth again. In between panting kisses you manged to snake your hands down Dean’s chest. Your fingers fumbling with the metal of his belt. You unbuttoned his jeans, fingers dragging slowly against the fabric of his boxers. You giggled.

Dean lightly pushed at the fabric of Sam’s shirt off your shoulders, letting it cascade to the floor at his feet. Dean ripped your panties away from you, ridding himself of the barrier between you two. He pulled your panties away from you, the shredded tatters of your underwear dangling from his fingers. He lets them join the shirt on the floor.

You’re both throbbing waiting to see who makes the next move. The heat between your legs us almost more than you can take. Every nerve ending waits anxiously. Your holding your breath. And you win. Dean touches you. His fingers slide into you. He slips further inside of you and you let out a moan, your eyes catch his, his hooded and dark. He closes his eyes, rocking you back and forth with the power of his hand and he marvels in the sounds escaping you.

“Y/N?” He asks, though his movements don’t stop. “Do you want to- bed?”

You nod, hesitant to climb off of him. Dean grabs at your hand gently, guiding it down to his hard crotch. It pulses against your hand, and the need and desire he has for you is more than evident. And the desire you both share is hot and the both of you share rough and impatient movements.

Dean picks you up, holding you by your ass as he maneuvers around your house to the bed room. You cling to him, arms wrapping around his shoulders in fear that you are going to be dropped.

He finds your room, kicking the door shut behind him and finding your lips once more. He sits himself down, his hands loosening their grip on you.  You slide off of him, knees on the carpeted floor below him. He seemed confused for a moment, eyes searching your face before he understands where you’re headed.

You pulled at his jeans and boxers, discarding them to the side. This heat, this need, this blur of everything unfolding before you. You gripped him in your hand, sliding your fingers down his length. He’s big, just as big as you had felt as he rocked against you on your couch, only better. Slick, hot, and pulsing just for you. Hard just for you.

Dean groans, his fingers find your face and pull you towards him, crushing your lips into his hardened self. Dean doesn’t control you, he simply wraps his fingers in your hair, pulling at it slightly as you slide your lips up and down his length. Dean sucks in his breath as you move faster, letting him slide deep down your throat.

“Fuck Y/N” He groans. “God, that feels so good.” Dean can’t take it, he pops you off of him and pulls you to meet his face. He crushes his lips against yours, hard and full of passion. You nip at his neck, dragging your teeth along the curve of his shoulder, aching to have him fill you.

Your knees are lifted off the ground as Dean pulls you onto the bed, moving so that his own body covered you. He lifted up, only to remove his own shirt so that all you can feel is the warmth of his skin against your own. He hovered above you, eyes flickering back and forth between your lips and your eyes as if he’s silently asking if you’re sure you want this.

You grasp at his back, and he slides his fingers inside of you once more. “Shit, you’re so tight and wet.” he rasps into your ear as he fingers you softly. And just as you start to miss the feeling of him pulsing deep inside you, he plunges deep and hard into you with as much length as he can. You gasp, wrapping your arms tightly around him as he thrust deeper inside of you.

You wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer to you. Dean thrusts, and mixed with the sounds of both your groans and moans you were taken to a new place. You and Dean being the only people on earth at this moment of time. And its taking every part of you to not explode in this moment. It makes everything blurry, makes everything happen so fast. You just want to take everything he has to give you in this moment.

“My god Y/N.” He breathes, still thrusting into you, filling you up. And that’s when Dean sends you over the edge. He snakes his hand down your stomach, reaching for your center where he uses his thumb to rub small circles against you. You screamed as the climax inside of you rose. Your body clenched, you held your breath, and before you could control it, you came. Muscles clenching around Dean and ultimately bringing himself to his own climax.

He collapsed at your side, breathing heavy and drawing you close to him. “Holy fuck,” He said after a few moments of heavy breathing.

“Wow.” You manage to say, wishing you had more. You turn to Dean, wrapping your arm around him. Dean hugged you close, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

You both lay there for a while, catching your breath and coming down from the high you both shared. “Dean?” You asked, breaking the comfortable silence. Dean pulled away, looking at your face, “What was all that stuff that Crowley was talking about? Demons? Angels? Is all that stuff real?”

Dean tensed up, the small circles he was running up and down your arm ceased. He cleared his throat, climbing from under you and sitting at the end of the bed. He grabbed his boxers and slid into them one foot at a time. “Dean?”

“I swear I’m going to-” Dean grumbled to himself, standing tall in your room. He faced you, looking over your still mostly naked body. He could see the flush of your skin, and it made his mouth water in need of more of you.

You grew nervous, reaching out and covering yourself with a blanket. “You and your brother aren’t really cops are you?” You asked.

Dean laughed, “Is that what Sam told you?” You nodded, “No. Everything Crowley said is real, its the truth. Demons, Angels, Vampires, you name it its probably real.” Dean remained standing, his body still exposed to you as he did. But you were to distracted by his words to notice anything about him physically. Too absorbed in the words that still floated in the air to even marvel at the scratch marks you had left behind, or the muscles flexing in front of you.

Your eyes widened in fear. “How-”

“Me and Sammy, we’re hunters.” Dean climbed back on the bed, reaching out for you. You pulled away, covering yourself more with the blanket. “We go after the things that go bump in the night to keep you and everyone else safe.”

Dean’s eyes were soft now, and you almost missed the way they looked only a few moments ago, dark and passionate. You shook those thoughts away, you needed to understand more of what he was going on about, what was still ringing in your mind as Crowley had you all chained up in some strange room. You couldn’t let yourself get lost in Dean’s eyes, or in his exposed skin. You had to push past the ecstasy you just felt because of him and think with about what was going on, who this stranger was. “How do you know this stuff?” You asked.

Dean sighed, taking the same spot he previously lay in. He waited for you to join and when you didn’t he sighed again. “Our father taught us everything we know. He raised us in the life. Traveling from city to city and learning the ropes. Just him, Sammy, and me.”

You wanted to ask why? How on earth his family could do something like that. You wanted to ask where his mother was during all this, but you didn’t. You didn’t say anything. You sat there looking at Dean’s chest. And while you hoped this was nothing more than a dream, you also didn’t want it to be.

Dean leaned on his elbow, his free hand reaching up to pull your chin to face him. “I will answer any and all questions you have. But lets lay down for a moment first. You have to be just as tired as I am after that.”

You moved into his touch, needing more of his skin against yours. You lay next to him, letting him hold you tightly as you inhaled his scent, mixed with the smell of your sex lingering in the air. Dean planted soft kisses along where ever you would let him, his fingers dancing against your skin and giving you goosebumps.

Before you knew it you were sleeping, your eyes closed tightly and dream land once again took over you. Only everything seemed so much simpler now. You could still feel the heat of Dean’s arms wrapped around you and welcomed it.

Dean waited until your breathing evened out, waited until soft snores left you before he carefully and slowly crawled out from under you. He drug his fingers over your cheek gently, brushing your hair from your face so he could remember you this way. Not the dancer on the floor, or the girl with bruises on her wrists. Not the girl tied up in Crowley’s basement, this girl. His girl. He picked up his things and left your room as quietly as he could, shutting the door behind him.

He sighed and made his way to the couch, picking up the rest of his things before slipping into his clothes. He searched your kitchen for a pad of paper and a pen, wanting to leave you a note instead of just leaving. He jot down a few words, and his number and left it next to the still full coffee mugs you both seemed to have forgotten about.

He gave the room one more look over before approaching the front door. His intentions hadn’t been to come here and fuck you like he had. Although, he’d be lying to himself if he hadn’t thought about it repeatedly on the drive over here. He had every intention of explaining his life to you. But when you started asking questions he realized just how hard it would have been to do. This was easier, run and hide, wait for you to call while he was out on the road and when he wouldn’t have the time to answer your questions. He knew Sam would understand if he needed to have some space to talk to you, but Dean felt something new every time he thought about explaining things to you; fear.


	9. Chapter 9

You walked back from the bus stop to your house. Heels clicking against the concrete floors below you. You hugged your jacket closer to you, wishing for the summer heat to return. You pulled your keys out of your purse and unlocked your front door with ease, dropping the keys in their designated little dish on a table by the door. You kicked out of your heels, shrug out of your jacket and entered your home.

You can’t help but keep your phone close by, ringer on as loud as it could possibly be. You made your way to your kitchen, setting the phone down on the counter as you reached in your fridge for the bottle of white wine you kept. Reached up in the cupboards for a glass. You sipped on the it slowly, savoring the fruity flavor.

With a heavy sigh you grabbed the bottle, your glass, and your phone and made your way to the living room. Dean’s note with his neatly scribbled number still sat on your coffee table even though it had been months. You reached for your remote, turning on the TV and letting it trap you in a new world.

The past few months had been full of change. You quit your job at the club, telling Ted that you couldn’t work with someone like him any longer. He had laughed in your face which made him deserve the nice little slap you gave him followed by spitting in his face. Your next steps were you wanted to take the club from him, he was a pig and didn’t deserve to own the club, but a lawyer told you that could never happen.

So a career change was in order, and while you still wanted to stay in the same field, you didn’t mind the change of venue. No more strippers and no more asshole bosses. Now you wore suits, skirts that reached your knees, and button ups that fit enough to hide what needed to be hidden.

But still as you sat on the couch your glance would be brought to the damn note with Dean’s number. And every time you looked at the other side of the couch you were reminded of the amazing sex you shared. Then it would all go south, because you would remember waking up alone, naked, and worried.

You’d remember calling Dean and begging for answers only to be met with a voicemail. Eventually your messages went from, “Dean please just let me know you’re okay.” to “Damnit Dean! You’re such an asshole!” And wide other variations of the sort.

He never called back. Never let you know that he was alive and well. Which only made you more mad. And yet, you still kept your phone glued to your side. You finished your glass and poured yourself another one; drinking quickly.

You tapped your fingers on your thigh, eyes not leaving the phone in front of you. You reached for it, typing in the number you had learned by heart now. It rang, and rang, and rang before the enviable beep came and told you to leave a message. “Dean.” You breathed, “I know you’re off doing what you do. I get it. But the least you could do is let me know you’re alive. I’ll stop calling if you’d just pick up once. I wont ask questions, I just…” You drank another long sip of wine.

“I’m sitting here looking at my couch and all I can imagine is you here with me again. How could you just leave while I was sleeping? Where are you?” You hung up before he could hear your voice breaking. Before he could hear how much you still cared about him despite him leaving you, or only knowing him for such a small period of time.

You lay down, letting the heaviness of sleep and wine pull your eyes shut. For a while now you had been having terrible nightmares. Nightmares of dogs chasing after you, of black smoke and red eyes.

You woke up with your heart racing in your chest, a thin layer of sweat covering your body, and your breathing heavy. A knock on the door made you jump. You stood, fixing your hair and trying to regain your composure. It wasn’t late or anything, so it wasn’t a shock to have a visitor at your door like it would be in a few hours.

You opened the door, licking your lips and hoping that you looked even a little bit presentable. You gulped and were pushed aside as your new guest entered your home. “Well hello to you too.”

“I don’t have time for hello’s Y/N.” Mia said throwing herself in your seat, grabbing you glass of wine and downing the last of it.

You shut your door. “What’s going on?”

Mia looked up at you, eyes red and puffy from crying. “He’s leaving me.” She sobbed. You sat next to her, holding her close you in a tight hug and let her cry. “He said that he can’t be with someone who practically sells herself.”

You pulled back, looking Mia in the eyes. “He’s a pig. Let him go.”

“But I love him.” She wiped at her tears.

“Mia, he knew what he signed up for when he met you. If he wants you to change the one thing you enjoy doing then fuck him.” And so it went. A few hours of talking Mia down from her crying state until you got her to laugh. A few bottles of wine had been consumed and the girl talk was going on strong.

Thanks to Mia you still got to hear about the club, hear the latest gossip and stay in the loop with the people you had known for years. “Shoot, I’m going to be late for work. Ted’s going to kill me.”

“Well Mia, you are welcome here any time.” You gave her a tight hug before walking her to the door. You opened it for her, but as you did both you and her paused in place.

Dean stood in the door way, his hand ready to knock on the door. He gave you a small smile and lowered his arm. His face was the first thing you noticed, bloody and cut in various places. His knuckles too. He slumped, not standing with his usual straightness.

“You must be Dean.” Mia said with anger in her voice. She placed her hands on her hips as she eyed him up and down. “You’re the one who left in the middle of the night.”

“Day, and yeah. That’s me.” He held his hand out for Mia to shake, only she pushed her way past him instead. Heels clacking loudly as she made her way down your walk way. You saw her turn around just before she left, waving that he was hot and giggling.

You brought your attention back to Dean. “What are you doing here?” You asked, not letting him into your home.

“I’d like to talk, if its not too late.” He gave you his best puppy dog face, and you caved, stepping aside and letting him back into your home. He went straight for your couch, noticing the wine bottles and glasses. He even spotted his note and felt a twinge of pain in his chest.

You sat down as far away as possible from him, keeping the gap between you wide. “Well, talk.”

Dean sighed, “I know leaving like I did was wrong. I’m an ass and you can hit me later for that. But I had to.” His voice seemed scratchy, as if he had been screaming or talking for days. You watched as he drug his bloodied hand down his face

“Yeah right.” You said more to yourself, turning away from him. Looking at him was making you want to play nice, and nice was not what Dean deserved right now.

“I did. Crowley isn’t patient. Me and Sammy needed to get on the road and find the damned guy he was after.” Anger seeped into his voice.

“And you couldn’t just say that? You couldn’t wake me up enough to say goodbye. Why couldn’t you just call?” Your voice was breaking but you didn’t hide it. Dean and you stared deeply into one another eyes. It was a battle of who would move first again, Dean or you.

“That’s why I came over that day actually.” He blinked, looking at the carpet at his feet. “But as I looked into your eyes I couldn’t bring myself to share what I do with you.”

You leaned in closer to him, “And now you can?” Your voice still full of anger, but even you knew the sadness was there.

“No, I still don’t want to. But I have a feeling I don’t have any other choice.” Dean was staring at you again.

Your voice was low and husky as it left your lips. The wine doing its job and finally kicking in. “You could leave.”

“Do you want that?” Dean leaned forward now, his tongue darting across his lips.

You paused, letting the air grow thick. You licked your own lips, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth and biting on it. Dean’s breathing hitched, eyes focused on you. You leaned forward hand reaching out, Dean watched patiently. But your hand gripped your wine glass rather than his thigh. “No.” You said simply. Raising the glass to your lips and finishing what was left in it.

Dean cleared his throat, leaning back in his seat. He threw his arm over the back of the couch, letting his shirt ride up just enough to show you his stomach. “Neither do I.”

“Good.” You said, setting the glass back down on the table.

“Good.” Dean said. Dean smiled, the cocky one that told you he could read the sexual tension coming off you. You knew that you looked slightly a mess, your eye make-up thick and dark, smudging slightly in the corners. You could feel his eyes on you, and you took this moment to uncross your legs.

Dean’s eyes widened as he saw the white lace panties you wore. Almost the same ones he had ripped to shreds the last time he was here. “Who’s Crowley?” You asked, knowing full well that by the way Dean was looking at you he couldn’t form coherent thoughts enough to answer you,

Dean closed his mouth, “He’s- he’s the king of hell. He used to be a crossroads demon.” Dean could feel the constricting feeling in his pants growing, the blood rushing to the one part of his body that wasn’t cut or bruise.

You nodded your head, accepting his answer, even though it only raised more questions in your head. You let your fingers dance up your thigh, lightly touching your skin. You pulled up your skirt, showing more to Dean than he needed. “And if you didn’t go find the guy he was looking for?”

“I don’t know. But he’s not shy when it comes to… torture.” Dean watches as your hands roam up from your lap to your chest, giving your breasts a light squeeze before continuing up to your neck.

You’ve never thanked your stripper years more than you did right now. One hand messed up your hair, the other reaching for your center up your skirt. You rocked back and forth slightly, biting your lower lip again. Dean groaned in his seat but remained still, watching the show before him. He’d be lying if he wasn’t dying to fall to his knees in front of you and help you reach the climax you were obviously searching for.

You rubbed small circles against your center. Dean followed your movements, running his hand back and forth against his hardening cock. His jeans only constricting and making his need worse. Once more you were competing to see who would cave first, who needed to feel the other more.

Dean let out a deep groan, his hips meeting his hand with a force you only wished you could be giving him. He licked his lips again and you felt yourself bending at his will. “Fuck this.” Dean said, shoving your coffee table to the side as if it weighed nothing. The glasses fell, crushing into tiny bits on the carpet but you paid no mind to that.

Deans face was inches away from you, his breath hot against your thighs as he watched you continue to rub small circles. He pulled your hand away, setting it against the back of his head as he leaned in. He planted small kisses against your thighs, moving nearer to your center.

White hot need filled you as his lips gently kissed your pantie covered sex. He glanced up at you, but never gave you the chance to answer before his tongue licked the length of you. You arched your back, pressing his head harder against you.

He slowly moved his hands up your thighs thumbs pulling your panties to the side. He examined you intently, his thumb pulling your lips apart. His mouth closed over you, tongue dancing against you and rising the ecstasy inside of you. Your fingers pulled at his hair, back arching and forcing him harder against you.  

“You’re perfect.” Dean said, pulling away for a breath. He licked his lips, eyes never leaving your wetness. He planted another kiss on your thigh before devouring you again. You didn’t stifle your moans, letting them ring out in the room. Dean was filled with such a hunger as he lapped up your juices.

You pulled Dean’s head away from you, looking at his clouded his eyes. “No more teasing.” You pulled Dean to your mouth, kissing him and not minding the taste of yourself on his lips. “I need you, Dean.”

Dean swallows. “I need you too.”

“Then show me.” You whispered.

Without a word Dean eases you backwards on the couch, covering your whole body with his own. His weight on you seeming familiar, feeling just right pressing into you.

“I missed you.” He said, kissing you once again. His tongue delves into your mouth. He tastes different, not like the whiskey like it did last time. Obviously he hasn’t been drinking, instead his mouth tastes like spearmint.

He kissed you softly, as if you were easy to break under him. He kissed you hard, the passion burning inside him finally showing. And then he groaned and practically fucked your mouth with his tongue, ravaging it like he can’t control himself.

The air surrounding you is desperate and hot and both of you just want to breath each other in. His hands are everywhere, sliding down to your hips and pulling the hem of your shirt up. His skin finally touching your own.

You read his thoughts, helping yourself out of your clothes and sliding him out of his own. He hisses in pain every now and then as he moves. The friction between your naked bodies is perfect, and you both marvel in the movements against one another.

You lift your legs around his hips and pull him towards you, into you. And suddenly you both feel complete. He doesn’t move for a moment, letting himself feel you wrapped around him.

He slowly thrusts into you, in and out, taking his time. His hands wandering everywhere, as thought he can’t seem to get enough of you against him. As if he’s trying to memorize everything about you. He buries his face in your neck and plants several small kisses against it.

You thrust against him, helping deepen himself inside of you. Dean throws his head back, gripping at the edges of the couch with his large hands. Dean groans slipping his length up and down inside you. You can tell you’re driving him crazy, matching his thrust for thrust. But its driving you just as crazy.

“Come for me Dean.” You whisper against his throat, since he’s still got his back arched and his head back.

Dean groans. “You keep that up and I will.” His voice is low and husky because he’s so turned on. He moves faster inside of you, slipping in and out of you. He groans, grabbing at you and you know that he’s coming. You can feel him throbbing and pulsing inside of you.  He collapses on top of you, letting you feel the full weight of him on you.

He stays inside of you, growing softer. “Not fair.” He says lifting himself off of you. You keep your legs wrapped around him, keeping him against you. “You didn’t come.”

You didn’t have time to protest, Dean pulled out of you swiftly and turned you over so you were on your knees. He runs a soft hand across you ass before giving it a small little smack. You moan and arch your back, looking at him. A new darkness in his eyes. He gives you another swift little hit and plunges his fingers inside of you. Moving quickly, he brings you to your own climax and you come, curling into yourself over his hand.

He folds you into him, holding you close as you both lay on your couch tangled in each others limbs. Your facing him, and all you can smell is his musk. You could hear his heartbeat slowing and steadying in his chest.  Sleep threatened the both of you, forcing both of your eye lids down and heavy. Dean’s hand on your back slowly stopped, and the soft snores that left him told you that you could join him in deep slumber now as well.

You woke up to the sounds of a woman screaming, growing nearer and nearer by the second. Your eyes shot open, and all you saw was darkness. You realized it was your screams filling your ears and stopped. Breathing heavy and feeling the tears streaming down your face. Dean no longer held you, instead you were tied down flat on your back. You were still naked, and could feel the cold of the metal on your bare skin.

You tried to force your way out but the rattle of chains sent chills down your spine. “Crowley?” You asked, pulling again at the chains. “Let me go damnit!”

“Now now now. Calm down. The more you struggle, the faster this will go.” Crowley flashed a rather large knife in your direction.

You stopped struggling, looking around the dark room. The only light seemed to be just above you. “Why are you doing this to me.” Tears poured from your eyes.

“Your toy didn’t pay up. This will motivate him.” Crowley proceeded to sharpen the blade in front of you. The sounds of him dragging it against metal ringing out and filling your ears. The lights died, and another scream filled the air.


	10. Chapter 10

Dean threw himself into the hotel room, slamming the door shut behind him. Sam stirred awake as his brother lifted the bag he kept under his bed out and turned on the lights. “Wha- I wasn't expecting you back till tomorrow.” Sam said whilst yawning.

Dean grunted in response, his blood boiling. He woke up on the couch not to long ago, alone. The remains of sulfur in your living room leaving him the only clue he needed.

“Dean whats going on? What happened with Y/N?” Panic rose in Sam's voice as he watched his brother load and cock every shot gun he had. Salt rounds wouldn't kill a demon, but they would hurt one enough to get Dean through the door.

“He took her. And I have to find her.” Dean said, gripping his trust angel blade in his hands. Crowley had said over and over again how it wouldn't kill him and tonight, tonight Dean was going to find out for sure.

Sam jumped up, shaking his long limbs awake. “Where?” He asked, slipping out of his sweats and into a pair of jeans.

Dean threw the bag over his shoulder. “I don't know.”

“Dean, where are you going to look?” Sam asked, as his brother's hand gripped the door knob.

“I don't know.” Dean said, sounding defeated. He turned to his brother, “But I can't just sit here with my thumb up my ass while he has her Sammy.” Tears threatened to fall from the elder brothers eyes, but he choked them down.

“I get it. Look.” Sam raised his hands in defense, nearing his computer and bringing the small machine to life. “Lets sit down and see if we can't pinpoint where he is.”

“Better yet, I'll summon the bastard.” Dean threw the bag back on the bed and fished through it again. Pulling out the ingredients he needed to preform the summoning ritual. Sam typed away on his computer, happy to have kept his brother in the room with him rather than let him aimlessly drive about.

Dean threw everything off the dresser in the corner of the room, drawing out the symbols he needed. He found his trusty can of spray paint and without hesitation drew a devils trap on the ground where Crowley would appear.

Sam watched his brother's hurried movements in fear. “I can't find any omens.” He sighed, leaning back in the chair. Dean didn't respond, only continued to mix the ingredients in a rather large bowl. He lit a match and stepped back, waiting.

“I knew it was only a matter of time before you came calling.” Crowley said, picking at a piece of lint off his sleeve.

“Where is she?” Dean's anger was more than evident, he neared the trap, staying just outside of the lines in safety.

“She's fine. Safe and sound where you can't find her.” Crowley said.

Dean turned around and punched the wall. “You son of a bitch!” He yelled, turning back to Crowley. He stood unmoved, but Sam flinched at his brothers outburst. He shut his computer and made his way towards his brother, hoping to be there if he needed to be stopped.

“Witch actually. Though bitch is pretty fitting as well.” Crowley tapped his finger against his chin, nodding at his words.

“Bring. Her. Back. Alive.” Dean said through clenched teeth. He pointed at his bed, wanting Crowley to make her appear there right this instant.

“See therein lies the problem. I. Don't. Want. To.” Crowley said, mimicking Dean. Sam leaned against the dresser, arms crossed over his chest as he listened intently to the conversation. “You said you would hunt down little Jimmy, and you didn't. I take your girl.”

Dean stared Crowley not taking his eyes off the smaller man. Sam cleared his throat, trying to break the tension in the room. “He wasn't where you sent us. We looked for months.”

“Well you didn't try hard enough!” Crowley yelled, he cleared his throat. “Bring me Jimmy and you get the princess. Don't, and she dies bloody. Its simple really.” He pulled at the hem of his sleeves. Not looking up until the silence in the air was thick again.

Dean approached the side of the circle again, his jaw tight. He pulled the angel blade from his back pocket, letting it glisten against the small light that illuminated the room. “I will stab you right now if you don't bring her here.” A playful smile fell upon Dean's face as he threatened Crowley.

“You do that,” Crowley started, “And about 50 hell hounds will attack her.” Again he mimicked Dean's smile, “Her soul is mine Dean, and I've come to collect.”

“She made a deal?” Sam leaned forward, more than interested now. Dean took a step back, Angel blade at the ready. Sam put himself between the two, inadvertently pushing Dean back and keeping him at a safe distance.

Crowley turned his back to the brothers, making his way to the other end of his trap. He hated being confined, but knew the boys were doing what they always did. Nothing ever seemed to change with them. “In so many less words. Yes.”

Dean pushed his way past his brother, “You kissed her?” This time he stepped into the circle, and Crowley noticed it, eyes lingering on Dean's boot. Dean retracted it, scratching it against the carpet under him.

“Not the point.” Crowley licked his lips.

Sam cleared his throat, both Dean and Crowley looked at him again. Dean stopped his brother, hand on his chest before he could say or do anything. “Who is Jimmy and why the fuck is he so important to you?” Dean asked.

Crowley circled his entrapment again. “Let's just say I'm in the mood to collect things.”

“Go antiquing then.” Dean said, turning his back to Crowley and slamming the angle blade down on the dresser.

Sam swallowed hard, trying to play Switzerland in this situation. “How do we know You haven't killed Y/N already.” He asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Because she's the only leverage I have on you twats, and I'd like to keep it that way. You have two days boys. Or Y/N is going to become MY new pet.” He snapped and disappeared. Dean threw the Angel blade across the room, and a spew of curse words left his mouth.

X*X

There you lay, held down against a table unable to move anything but your hands and feet. Everything else was tied down with thick leather straps. Crowley had sent in a minion, as he called him, to watch over you but words were never shared. He would flash black eyes at you every now and then, as if you needed a reminder of what was going on.

“What's going to happen to me?” You asked finally. But your new captor sat and looked over your bare skin.

He chuckled, “If the Winchester's find what Crowley wants, nothing. But if not...” He trailed off, as if you knew the rest. And again the room went silent, all you could hear was your racing heart and quick breaths.

X*X

Dean drove the car far faster than he normally would have. Sam cringed at every turn and gripped at the door with white knuckles. Sam hadn't tried to convince his brother to drive safer, or slower; he knew better. Except he had never been on this side of Dean when he was like this. And when he asked what Dean had done when he was in danger Dean would typically laugh it off and ignore his brother's request.

“Uh-Dean?” Sam asked.

“Not now.” Dean's voice was firm and full of anger. “Son of a bitch!” He yelled, hitting the steering wheel with a force that made Sam flinch.

Sam watched his brother clench his jaw tightly, breathing quick shallow breaths.“Do you-?” Sam started only to be interrupted by Dean yelling some more.

“No Sam! I have no idea where I am going! Cause I have no idea where this fucking Jimmy is!” He hit the steering wheel again. Only to follow it up by patting it gently, sorry for hurting his baby.

“Okay lets stop somewhere with some wifi and I'll look up what I can about him.” Sam tried to sound as reasonable and calm as he could. But even he knew the presser was on. But being calm and collected was the only way he knew to help. Both of them worrying, stressing, and not thinking logically wasn't going to help you out.

X*X

Crowley sat on his throne, looking over his few assistants in the room. Each waited patiently for his orders, and when none came they started to grow uncomfortable. Crowley tapped his finger against his cheek, eyes cast in the corner of the room not looking at anything in particular. He scratched his beard, breathed in deep and sat himself up right.

“Have the boys made and progress?” He asked everyone in the room. They shuffled, feet scraping against the cold floor beneath them. “Well?”

One stepped up, his suit dark and fitting him perfectly. He cleared his throat, “No. It seems they stopped and are trying to look for him, but without your assistance they don't know where to look.” His eyes never met Crowley's focused instead on the ground at his feet, or the intricate carving of his seat.

“I helped them last time and it brought me nothing.” Crowley stared the poor demon down. “And the girl?”

A new demon stepped forward, a female. “Asking a lot of questions sir, but not fighting like you had thought.”She stood tall, her shoulders back and her chest pocking out. Not that it mattered, no one was paying much attention to her breasts. No, it was the power she commanded with her stance that had Crowley lift an eyebrow at her. The way she looked him in the eye instead of shaking in fear at his feet that interested him in her.

“No, she doesn't seem to have a lot of fight in her.” Crowley sighed. “I guess its time to pay her a visit. See if we can't motivate those idiots to work a little faster.”

“Yes sir,” They all rang out in unison, bending forward as Crowley rose to his feet.

X*X

Dean tapped his foot in an anxious mess as Sam typed as fast as he could on his laptop. He sighed over and over again, eyes scanning the room quickly. Sam tried to ignore his brother the best he could, searching any and all resources he could to find where Jimmy might be.

“Anything?” Dean asked, more than impatient.

Sam looked up at him, “Dean. I am working as fast as I can. Just let me finish.” Sam hated that he was having to act like he didn't care. He did. But Dean wasn't thinking rationally.

Dean sighed, leaning in his chair and drumming his hands on his thighs. “I can't just sit here. I'm going out.” Sam didn't get a chance to say anything. Dean was already leaving and practically out the door before Sam even opened his mouth.

X*X

You're eyes were growing heavy. Crowley's new line of torture involved letting you slowly bleed out. He told his assistant to stop the bleeding right before you would die, but start it up again as soon as you could take it. Cutting the same cut over and over again, laughing as you screamed out in pain.

The door swung open and Crowley came into the room. You tried to focus on him, but with your long blinks and shallow breaths made it nearly impossible. “Well hello Darling.” He cooed over you, forcing your chin his way so you would look at him. “I see you've lost a lot of blood already. Good.”

You wanted to rip your face out of his grasp, but instead all that happened was a low quiet whimper. “I know, I know. Its hard for you. But I don't have any other choice.”

Again you whimpered in response. Crowley made his way around the room, waving at his minion to leave you be. He bowed and left, leaving you and the King of Hell alone. He picked up a few instruments of torture he had lined on a tray. He picked up a rather large knife, sharpening it on a rather large metal rod in front of you again.

X*X

Sam and Dean had found Jimmy, shoving his knocked out body in the back seat of the Impala and speeding away from their violent act they just committed. Sam called Crowley from his phone, it rang only once before the thick British accent told them a location and hung up.

Dean thought his driving earlier was reckless, but this, this was far worse. He silently hoped and prayed that a cop wasn't going to see him on his way. The location they were destined for was at least a state away, raising their fear even more. Sam and Dean didn't speak, remaining as silent as they could.

Until they grew closer. “No demons?” Sam asked, looking at the large abandoned building they pulled up to. Dean didn't waist any time leaving the car and slumming the unconscious body over his shoulder. Sam offered to help, but Dean had his jaw clenched tight again and his eyes with the familiar darkness that sent shivers down Sam's spine.

Dean kicked the door open, making his way down the halls and letting Sam look in every room. “Dean don't you think something is off about this?” Sam asked, leaving another empty room.

“Yes, but that's not what I care about.” Dean said bitterly.

Sam sighed, “Dean if its a trap...”

“Than we kill everyone and save Y/N.” Deans voice was firm again.

“Dean.”

“Don't argue Sammy.” He pointed to another door with his head. Sam did as he was told, attempting to open the door without arguing. He paid careful attention to his surroundings, and grew even more suspicious when the knob didn't turn. He stepped back, placing a swift kick in just the right spot to force it to swing open.

Crowley stood over you, large knife hovering in the air just above your chest. Dean pushed past his brother, dropping the body he was carrying.

Everything slowed, Dean's scream seemed miles away, Sam's yelling for Dean to stop didn't register until Dean was too far in the room. Crowley's smile was devious, and the bowls of blood on the floor sent so much rage in Dean all plans went out the door.

The angel blade appeared in his hand but Dean wasn't fast enough. Crowley's blade sunk into your chest like butter. Your eyes widened, and a few gurgles left your mouth as it pooled with blood. Dean sank the blade into Crowley and let his body fall back and slide down the wall, a streak of blood staining the white pain.

Dean pulled at the straps holding you down, pulling you to his chest as tears streamed down his face. He ignored Sam pulling at him to leave, Ignored the yells and threats that more demons were coming. All Dean cared about was you bleeding out in his hands.

Dean watched the life fade out of your eyes, he pressed his lips firmly to yours and felt your last breath against him.

It took Dean a matter of seconds to snap. Jumping to his feet and pushing his brother behind him. Dean dug the angel blade into the first demon he made contact with, and another, and another until they were all heaps of empty meat suits at his feet. He breathed heavy covered in the blood of his fallen victims.

He bent down and pulled the knife from his last enemy and wiped the blade clean on the demons suit. Sam stood, paralyzed in place. Dean fell to his knees by your side again, holding you close to his chest.

 


End file.
